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A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. For a short time they allowed me to share the warmth of their lives. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. ’ She spread her hands. Men had tried that before, but never until now had they been quick enough. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin.
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