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“You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. A familiar figure was making his way towards them. You will only make me hurt you the more. ” Courtlaw suddenly interposed. Mr.
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