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I thought that he was dead. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. He—wanted to marry me. ” They left the restaurant just as the rain slowed to a dull trickle, the fury of the storm exhausted, having left mirror puddles in its wake. ‘Wait, Jacques! I will find the way to open this. The stranger with a bow returned to his table. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap.
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