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” She shrugged her shoulders. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. ” She said. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. She leaned forward and addressed him. He will return, and you shall be awaiting his arrival!” When her own underarms and groin turned pink, then blue, then black, she confined herself to bed. There she would wander about in the kindly darkness. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly.
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