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It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. “Think how dumb we find ourselves and stifled! I know we seem to have a sort of freedom. But you are Annabel. Wood," cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit, and offering it to the carpenter, "that'll warm the cockles of your heart.
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