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Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. That’s really our choice now, defy—or futility. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. Kicked out of there for something shady. “Very likely,” he answered. He says only that he must tie up all the loose ends. There was nothing to replace the all important letter from her father. A buxom piece, who looked, Gerald decided, as if she would be more at home in an amorous engagement in a hayloft than sitting demurely in a ballroom.
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