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. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. She had to have him, her body was going crazy for the want of sex. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. Many little things had contributed to that decision. Without hindrance—present occupation. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned.
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