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It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. ‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. ‘They lived with him, one after the other, for all the world as his wife. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. “Yes,” she said, very faintly. " And then his interest would cease.
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