"Mr. I was one of the few. And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again. He barely shook the rose petals from her hair. She occupied a small sofa, a little apart, a ruddy-complexioned gentleman some years her senior beside her, and glanced about with an air of considerable unease. He was accustomed to such surprises, and enjoyed them. I have suffered—I have sinned—I have repented. She had never had a real doll.
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