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If I were Mr. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. That for the men lay near the Lodge, with which it was connected by a dark passage. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. Upon this grateful animal she lavished that affection which was subtly repelled by its lawful object.
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