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They all balk because there aren't any petticoats. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. She wanted to think. It slipped out—as did that “she”. The younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her person had all the maturity of twenty. Anna was unimpressed. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac.
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