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‘More, I think,’ put in Madame, soulfully regarding the major, ‘because I have English, a little. Sometimes these dreams are simple and tender; sometimes they are magnificent. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram.
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