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"Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. "That's well. You're rich. ’ Gerald unfolded his arms and threw his hands in the air. ‘You would have a history of my life? Very well. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her. “I have heard these things from you before, and you have had my answer.
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