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" "He had better bring half-a-dozen," said the Amazon, taking up a cloth-yard wand, and quietly seating herself; "one won't do. "I've won, after all. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. She cursed herself for a fool. ‘It were that there major, miss. Out of these he selected a faded parchment and restored the rest to safety. He wasn't quite hard enough to win worldly success; that was his fault. A thickly-set, sandy young man, with an unwholesome complexion and grease-smooth hair, had entered the room.
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