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"Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look upon her. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. Sheer calculation on his. ” “Yes, but you forget; how am I to live?” “Easily. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me.
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