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My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. ’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. More than this, it would serve to mitigate her own abysmal loneliness to pool it temporarily with his. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. She recognized the cloth at once, waylaid him, and with that directness of speech particularly hers she explained what she wanted. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. ” They talked for a while in somewhat dreamy fashion, Anna especially being more silent than usual.
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