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She put her clothes back on, 118 lipstick smeared all over her face. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. . The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. It was a great relief to arrive at last at that pause when she could say to her aunt, “Now, dear?” and rise and hold back the curtain through the archway. Everything in the world had changed for her.
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