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The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. Martin’s parents looked at each other in embarrassed, silent communication. She was sore with the perplexities of her preposterous position. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. She let her mind run into dreams of that cloud paradise of an altered world in which the Goopes and Minivers, the Fabians and reforming people believed. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous.
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