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’ ‘I have found Mary Remenham’s daughter,’ he repeated. Leaving the library by the same door she had first used to enter it earlier that day, she crossed the two little antechambers and moved on through the rooms. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. Through that she had to go. Still, they bob up occasionally.
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