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She hesitated. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. Chapter XVI THE DISCOMFITURE OF SIR JOHN Sir John looked from one to the other of the two sisters. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. He mumbled an apology and then stopped short. I looked up the 261 name Iovelli.
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