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She pulled her hand away quickly. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years.
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