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Stanley took mustard savagely. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. ‘Nothing of the sort,’ argued Gerald. ‘Now I see why you’re marrying this woman, Hilary. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive.
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