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He could not permit her to remain in that position. She went to the table under the end window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and garnished with full bottles of re-agents. And experience was slow in coming. I cannot go on. ‘Would you have me face my maker with that on my conscience? If I’d died, there’d have been no one to tell you, for your father would not have done. A slow anger burned in the man. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still.
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