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He knew not how to act, urged as he was in two directions. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room.
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