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So was I, in fact. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. It slipped out—as did that “she”. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. " McClintock saw indeed—two things: that the boy had no conceit and that this odd girl would always be giving.
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