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‘That I do not yet know. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. You make me angry, and I lie. I’ll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you.
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