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“But, forgive me, you are tired. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. “I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still. Before her stretched blank spaces, dotted with running people coming toward her, and below them railings and a statue. Then pain entered their depths.
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