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’ The gentleness in his voice nearly overset her. “Cheveney!” she repeated. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation. At this point a carriage with servants in sumptuous liveries was stationed.
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