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From her stomacher, to which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch, in a pinchbeck case. “I suppose most people’s letters are queer. "You want me, then?" she said. He felt her warm breath upon his cheek, the perfume of her hair as she leaned over him. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. "What! refuse to see a person who desires to speak with me. No, never mind about thanking me. I believe I’m in love.
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