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🎮 Fleda by this time knew in what way she was affected: she became limp and weak again; she felt herself give everything up. Mixed with the horror, with the kindness of the station-master, with the smell of cinders and the riot of sound, was the raw bitterness of a hope that she might never again in life have to give up so much at such short notice. She heard herself repeat mechanically, yet as if asking it for the first time: "Poynton's gone?" "Puts you in the situation of expecting that I shall do this thing just simply to oblige you?"!

🏆 "That's your great feeling about him," Fleda said; "but how, after what has happened, can it be his about you?" Mrs. Gereth, struck apparently by something in her tone, looked at her from a tremendous height. "Don't fail me now!"!

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