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Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. “Oh, damn!” he said. ’ She shrugged fatalistically. There was a photo of her that looked exactly like you. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. ’ ‘You’re going to break into the house? You’re mad. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things.
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