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Wood. “No, don’t interrupt me. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. He pressed the long shapely hand warmly in his. The expression was wholly different.
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