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Then instantly she got out of bed and proceeded to dress. She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. ‘You will not believe any of my very clever lies. I can’t. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. ‘Parbleu, but what a person you make me! One who spies. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. " "I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. ” Their eyes met for a moment.
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