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"I think you're all bewitched," she cried. ’ ‘I think he only wants to help you, miss,’ offered Jack. I find you were excessively brave, mon pauvre. Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. ‘I suppose you think I can’t manage it myself,’ had complained Captain Roding sarcastically. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it. A pretty piece.
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