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The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. ’ His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. “Quite particularly nice,” said her aunt. Least of all myself. ” “Well?” Anna remarked calmly.
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