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After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. Now if you are ready to go with me, I too am ready. “I’m thirsty. There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. They will claim particular attention hereafter. “Michelle, don’t do this.
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