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’ Mrs Ibstock’s lips tightened and she looked away a moment. She had never had a pet, never had a real doll. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath. The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand. “I can talk to you and you to me without a scrap of effort,” said Capes; “that’s the essence of it.
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