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’ His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. . "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. “Please go and see that—nothing happens,” she pleaded. ‘And it is me you dare accuse? It is yourself you should arrest.
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