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Talk to her of the new story; divert her; for this day her heart has been twisted sorely. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. White leaned forward in her chair with an anxious smile designed to throw oil upon the troubled waters. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. “Damned Rascal!” he said. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. “In Paris your sister appeared to me to be a charming student of frivolity.
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