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A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. It was Sebastian’s fault for slapping her face and letting the baby out. I asked him—to take me away. "But don't ever let me see them again. " "What proof have you that I am?"—was the return bolt. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window.
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