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Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. “My word holds,” she said. He sat in much the same attitude, and she stood just as she had stood when he told her she could not go to the Fadden Dance. “Please make yourselves comfortable while I see to the coffee. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. Having ascertained by the breathing which room Thames occupied, he speedily contrived to fasten him in. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject.
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