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“I do mean that,” she declared. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. ” She smiled at him. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. Upon my word, Anna,” she declared, with a strange little laugh, “you are a thousand times more like me as I was two months ago than I am myself. " "Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker. . " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily.
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