’ He let her go. “What did it matter?” she cried. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. Instead, he could not get beyond these minor details—why she wore the dress, whence she had come, and whither she was bound. org/2/6/5/9/26596/ Produced by D.
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