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He had chosen his time well. Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. “To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. I think it inadvisable—I don’t want an intimacy to spring up between you and a man of that type. Professor Michael S. That is what I don't understand.
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