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For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. There were two. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. Sheppard, faintly. He's neighbourly; he has a jingle for every ache and joy I've had. Fast. “What a fool I am!” he muttered, standing up on the hearthrug, and leaning his elbows upon the broad mantelpiece.
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