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He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. "Poor Mrs. She doubted if Manning would even listen to that. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him.
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