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Instinctively she had fallen into the posture of the poster, her hands behind her, her head bent slightly forward, her chin uplifted, her eyes bright with the drollery of the song. Her knees shook, her breath came fast, she almost felt the lurid effect of those tiny patches of rouge upon her pallor-stricken cheeks. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it. ’ ‘You little fiend,’ exclaimed Gerald wrathfully.
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