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And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. Shame and electricity coursed through her veins, flowing directly from him in a flash flood. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. I was ready to wager that your name would have marched with one of them. You promise to become a first-rate workman.
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