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His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. He smiled tenderly. She's my mealticket. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. "I have it too!" exclaimed Hogarth, busily plying his pencil. Gerald smiled and crooked his elbow. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask.
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