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Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. All she needed to do was to have a body. She still kicked herself for it. "You've got him?" demanded Ireton. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her.
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