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He might solve the riddle. I have been the vicomte’s secretary, remember. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated. “I have never forgotten. She entered the last room, his bedroom. The dusky obscurity of the room was twice welcome. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. The world isn’t ready for girls to start out on their own yet; that’s the plain fact of the case. It was not a cambric curtain Ruth had drawn across that part of her life: it was of iron.
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