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That for you!" And she snapped her fingers in his face. Happily they had no one else to wait for, and it heartened her mightily to think that she had ordered the promptest possible service of the dinner. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. modern.
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