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The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. ‘Never. ’ The lady’s face came round, a puzzled frown on her brow. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. Wood in the deepest mourning. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table.
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