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I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. ‘Ain’t my place, I know that. ” “Yes. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture. "You are out betimes this morning, Mr. Presently. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. She was her mother’s child, fair of face, doted upon and spoiled by her attentions.
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