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" Broken pipes littered the floor, if that can be said to be littered, which, in the first instance, was a mass of squalor and filth. He made the universe on those lines. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. ” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. It was time to get up. .
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