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A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. He remembered also, all at once, the very first words he had heard her speak: “I was not born to this. He went in and leaned, panting, against one wall. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe.
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