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Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. She began at once a hasty readjustment of her hair, while Ramage parleyed with inaudible interrogations. Smith, placing his hand on his breast. .
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