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She was practically an outcast, she had not even the ghost of a plan as to her future, and she had something less than five pounds in her pocket. ‘I want a word with you, my lad. Lucy thought he was the most handsome man in the entire world. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal.
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