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“I knew you wouldn’t mind. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. " "Comfort yourself, then, Aliva.
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