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She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. “Solitary walks?” “That’s the point of them. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. “You’re still,” he said, “in the educational years. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life.
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