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The darkness was almost palpable; and the wind which, hitherto, had been blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. We are nuns. We don’t consider each other; we needn’t.
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