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That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. Stanley, standing on the hearthrug with his back to the unlit gas-fire. I did not even know where to write and thank you. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. I do not wish for you to see me feed.
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