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” “It was a mistake,” she faltered. "As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence declared. ‘That is, if she’s gone that way. Sir John and Annabel seated themselves at one of them, and the proprietor himself, a small dark-visaged man, radiant with smiles, came hurrying up, followed by a waiter. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. “It’s my fault. " Gravely he watched the needle flash to and fro. At least for one moment, it was.
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