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The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. “In Paris our lives were far apart, and we had seldom the same friends. A fresh cool breeze blew in their faces. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. ” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium.
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