” Part 6 In the afternoon she resumed her search for apartments. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. He stood still, almost breathless. And he began also at times to wake at night and think about her. The only departure which he made from the fashion of the period, was in respect to the peruke—an article he could never be induced to wear.
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