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” “I’m not surprised at it. “My darling!” he said, clasping her resolutely in his arms, “my dearest!” “Mr. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. So completely! The oddest fitness! What is it made of? Texture of skin and texture of mind? Complexion and voice. My dear! we’ve had so many moments! I used to go over the times we’d had together, the things we’d said—like a rosary of beads. ‘But with more courage in her little finger than in many another female’s entire body. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue.
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