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"Hear me, Sir Rowland!" he cried. I shouldn't talk like that. She married my Dad in a small ceremony down at City Hall. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. The Mother Abbess, while thankful, could not be brought to consent to allow the girl out of her charge alone with unknown servants, and Martha was delegated to accompany her erstwhile nurseling to the homeland she had thought never to see again. And she had been doubting since that walk in the Zoological Gardens whether, indeed, he did simply care for her. Too close, he reasoned, for safety.
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