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Celeste he knew. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. I went to the theatre that night. She dropped the manuscripts and swiftly brought the coat to him, noting that a button hung loose.
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