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Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. Petals!. “Get you a cold one?” “No thanks. So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. “My name,” Anna replied calmly, “is certainly Pellissier, but I repeat that I do not know you. Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French.
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