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Her fancy dress, save for the green-gray stockings, the pseudo-Turkish slippers, and baggy silk trousered ends natural to a Corsair’s bride, was hidden in a large black-silk-hooded operacloak. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. ” “Your secret is safe with me, sweetheart, as long as 114 you’ll lend your new friend Julian here a smoke.
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