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“I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. I spied a small picture of them in your house, though. “Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. I must take you to the Suffrage people, and the Tolstoyans, and the Fabians. CHAPTER XXIX. It is not possible for us to be on friendly terms with a young man who has been seen in a public place, having supper alone with your sister after midnight. It’s these damned novels.
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