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He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. “And yet in a very few weeks I shall have done with it all. ‘Keep your distance! You dare to tell me I cannot refuse?’ He glared at the girl. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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