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She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. It has been very humiliating. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. Spurlock mused over the previous night. “Upon my word,” he exclaimed, “this is most extraordinary. ’ ‘Grossly unfair, too.
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