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E. And then, there would be the question of money. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me. “Where to?” he asked, as the hansom drove up. " "A Chinaman. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. She tugged at my coat and said, ‘I know of the blue-eyed maid.
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