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She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. She would not forgive me. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. But the cases were not identical. ‘Me also I do not recall them. ‘Small wonder in a way that he found hisself consolation elsewhere. I want to go to that because it’s a new experience, because I think it will be interesting and give me a view of things. ” For a moment she was grave. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger.

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