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She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. "Surely," he added, staring at Rowland, "either I'm greatly mistaken, or it is—" "You are not mistaken, Baptist," returned Rowland with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. As for loving you, I do. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. ‘Major Gerald Alderley, mademoiselle, quite at your service.
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