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The others hurried to the window. “Mr. I shall still wear your favor—even if it is a stolen and forbidden favor—in my casque. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. “You have been very kind to me,” she said. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. Accordingly, on their presentation, Mr. " "Oh! let me die," groaned the widow.
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