Many little things had contributed to that decision. He seemed too noisy. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. She had lost her sense of direction, and was among unfamiliar streets. O'Higgins mounted the stairs, his step extraordinarily light for one so heavy. My father died a year ago, by the way. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. He was an outside broker and the proprietor of a financial newspaper; he had come up very rapidly in the last few years, and Mr. Brown.
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