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” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. ’ ‘Oh, this is becoming nonsensical,’ exclaimed Lucilla. Loneliness.
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