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Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. I’ll have it out with him. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. Nothing, however, could be discerned, except the crumbling brickwork. ” Brendon hesitated for a moment. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. Did you know you’re very maternal? Damn, you’re more maternal than my Mom.
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