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He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. “Poor old daddy! I wonder if he’ll spend much on the fatted calf?. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. He was there concealed, waiting her return. Shall we sit outside and drink a petit verre of something to give us an appetite while dinner is being prepared?” “Certainly not,” she answered. “And let us have a talk about this—some other time.
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