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See paragraph 1. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. Stanley was throughout enigmatical, with an anxious eye on her husband and Alice. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her.
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