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Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had entered the room rushed to the window with a torch. ‘Now I see why you’re marrying this woman, Hilary. It's my way when I'm ruffled. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service. There was little fighting spirit here. She untucked his starched shirt, running her hands along his smooth torso and underneath his arms. I cannot do it, David. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view.
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