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" "No," cried the lady, "this room—I recollect—it has a back window. Her feathered hat fell from her head and down her back, and she felt fingers writhing in the mass of her hair and caressing the flesh of her neck beneath so that she shivered uncontrollably. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. They send you every good wish. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters.
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