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pglaf. It’s not like we’re getting married. Annabel had taken her life into her hands with gay insouciance, had made her own friends, gone her own way. It suited him to dampen the spirits of any who sought to impose upon him, as these relics of the loathed family of Valade seemed like to do. Though he walked by the side of the governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired by a broadbowled Dutch pipe. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. I love my husband.
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