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Damn! I’ve splashed. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece. ***** October. Kneebone's habitation, the shutters of which were closed, and knocked at the door. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. “Now you must go,” she said firmly. To-morrow at twelve I'll be with you, Mr. . I can’t afford to get behind.
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