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There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. ‘I rather suspect,’ added Prudence, ‘that Major Alderley’s motives were somewhat different. ” “The good God!” Anna murmured, herself shaken with fear. You do not know him. She had not at first the power for concealment. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked the very picture of desolation and misery.
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