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“You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. "The only disguise I ever put on is a dress-suit, and I look as natural as a pig at a Mahomedan dinner. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. She pulled her hand away quickly. The game lasted until 7:13. " CHAPTER V.
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