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But, when the sound of the carriage-wheels died away, and he felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed him, and he rang the bell violently. He bullied frankly. This she put into the trunk. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well.
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