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It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. She knew that I cared for her, she had admitted that she cared for me. Do not mistake me. No— no, it must never be. “DEAR MR.
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