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“One doesn’t want to turn the whole thing into a mere sex antagonism. 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. “You seem to forget that my sister is—married. Wood struck me a blow which made me a robber. It was not a long prayer. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. “It is just six o’clock now. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. The tide'll bring him to us fast enough. He is coming here to tea. , and go home before you have to. The Closing Scene.
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