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As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. ‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair.
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