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All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. The young man's imagination suddenly pictured the man as a rock, loosed from its ancient bed, crumbling as it fell. ” Her aunt answered in a low voice: “I was engaged to him, dear, for seven years, and then he died. Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing.
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