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“But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. That she had not bought one piece of linen subtly established in Ah Cum's mind the fact that she had no home, that the instinct was not there, or she would have made some purchase against the future. There were a few loose, broken fragments of rock to reckon with upon the ledges, and one place where hands did as much work as toes.
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