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Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. Wood in a sharp tone. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. She opened her mouth and inhaled water. "Man, man! You're coming to life. You are you. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master.
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