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What she said is true. I was helpless. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy. Take it, if I die. She hoped fervently that Martin had not divulged his crush to Brown. “Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole.
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