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’ ‘That is what you think? Eh bien. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. “You need have no further trouble. ' But I don't value that, because I think it applies to one who marries a widow with encumbrances; and that's not my case, you know. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. ” she said. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. “I love you, I always will. You dear, dear girl. ‘Left to yourself, my girl, you may not have any affairs.
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