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The sing-song girl, seeing Ruth, extended her hands and began to chatter rapidly. \"Word gets round. She has been a dear. ” “I think,” Anna said, “that it was only his manner. Whatever anticipation Ann Veronica had formed of this vanished in the reality. Wood,—"he'll never mend. ” Another differed. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality.
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