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’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. "Sorry you're obliged to keep your word. He told her something about music, the great world outside. “Yeah, everybody knows him Mom. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. It runs about gayly, it romps, it is bright and pretty, it has enormous quantities of soft hair and more power of expressing affection than its brothers. You give her a daub here and there where the rust shows.
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