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A rock gave way to deep water. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. I stole away and walked to the railway station. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. ‘I understand you have not been in England very long,’ he said in English, noting that Madame raised her fan and lowered her gaze demurely.
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