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With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. “Anna,” he cried eagerly. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. ’ ‘I thought you were dead,’ Melusine confided. He must have married when he was quite a young man. But we get over it.
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