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“I say!” he cried. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. ‘Not another caller will I receive this day. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “There is no—Good God!” he exclaimed. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her.
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