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Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white. ” “Yes. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train.
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