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The Storm. She saw nothing of their love-making, and came home from her boarding-school in a state of decently suppressed curiosity for Alice’s wedding. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. No matter how swiftly he pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt.
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