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Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. ” His rhythm slowed to a grind. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. It was really very jolly to talk to a man in this way—who saw the woman in her and did not treat her as a child. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted.
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