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On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. She had to wear cream and a brown sash and a short frock and her hair down, and Gwen cream and a brown sash and a long skirt and her hair up. “It—it—must come,” she faltered. Very intelligent, by the looks of the books she was carrying. I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. He donned his winter coat. "That's tremendous!" he cried. “All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly.
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