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‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. "I am innocent. The room was dark and dusty. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. Ruth returned to the table. . I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. .
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