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If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. God must love me, for he has guided me here. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. " "Ay, and there's my liver. works.
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