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“It has all been a mistake, hasn’t it?” “No more talking,” the doctor interposed. She came into the room. She walked down the station approach, past the neat, obtrusive offices of the coal merchant and the house agent, and so to the wicket-gate by the butcher’s shop that led to the field path to her home. If ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not ungrateful. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room.
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