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I pray, Anna, that you may find your happiness. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. Alors, one must steel oneself. “You are talking like a boy. She has given herself up to social work. ” She scoffed. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind.
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