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“These clothes are French, and I’m sure this floppy bow would make a Frenchman of me anyhow. E. Her features were still slightly marked by the disorder alluded to in the description of her as a child,—but that was the only drawback to her beauty. ” She stopped buttoning her glove, and looked at him. “Feel better. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me.

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