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Her cheeks flushed a dull red. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. The man who staggers, whose face is flushed, whose attitude is either noisily friendly or truculent, has some chance; liquor bends him eventually. She wanted to live. “I think that you were inquiring for Mr.
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