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Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. The air was crisp and dry. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye. ’ Mrs Sindlesham’s lips twitched. “We are only in the dawn of the Age of Friendship,” he said, “when interest, I suppose, will take the place of passions.
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