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“Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. ” He said as they parted company. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. Don’t take my word for it though. To have sprung this upon them to-night would have been worth a thousand pounds. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. ‘She won’t like it,’ prophesied the captain gloomily.
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