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Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. “Was it really only this afternoon that I met you in St. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it. His shirt also was unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox, and a chest which might have served as a model for a Hercules. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas.
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