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‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. ” Anna measured out the coffee. ‘What is the matter?’ ‘Is there nothing you do not know?’ she asked faintly. She regarded the young man coldly. He kissed her deeply and hungrily. ‘Dunderhead.
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