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Take me to the Stone Room. “I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. "Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned, in a plaintive tone. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. I believe that her ladyship is going to Carey House, and on to the Marquis of Waterford’s ball,” he added, hastily consulting a diary on the hall table.
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