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Hers were less noble, yet stately. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. \" She said. ” She took a step. Capes was an exceptionally fair man of two or three-and-thirty, so ruddily blond that it was a mercy he had escaped light eyelashes, and with a minor but by no means contemptible reputation of his own. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned.
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