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The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. "Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know me. He was profoundly stirred. ‘I know just what he was doing. I hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard. \" Larry got up from his chair and trudged to the refrigerator, pouring himself a glass of milk from the never-ending supply of two percent. ‘That is settled then. " "Not utterly," rejoined the other.
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