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We hide it bravely, but so it is. One post-midnight meeting, she could stand it no longer. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is. It ought not to be much. “Look here! Aren’t you going a little too far? This—this is degradation—making a fuss with sleeves.
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