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"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. " Ten minutes' walk brought them to the hotel. This whole affair is truly my fault. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room. I’ve bored you or something. Her desires were not for riches. ” “You came—here!” he repeated, vaguely. For a second time Ann Veronica wanted to swear at the universe. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked.
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