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Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. Did he track her? She was unaware if he did. Beauty doesn’t mean, never has meant, anything—anything at all but you. Be so good as to come this way. “Indeed, you could have no more faithful friend, you could find no one more anxious to serve you. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples.
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