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She twisted her fingers tightly. I was worried. Stanley, and was so evidently pleased that Ann Veronica’s heart smote her. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. At the same time he comprehended that she was as pure and lovely as the white orchid of Borneo and that she did not carry that ridiculous shield called false modesty. The first stroke appeared to arouse all the vindictive passions of Jonathan. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer.
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