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"Perfectly true," assented Isabella. "I love Maurice. I wish to marry him." And slipping her arm within that of her lover, she prepared to face the storm. Outside, the peaceful landscape was filled with a warm amber light, and this poured into the oak-paneled dining-room through three French windows which opened onto a close-shaven lawn. Dinner was at an end; Jaggard, the major's valet, butler and general factotum, had placed the wines before his master, and was now handing around cigars and cigarettes. All being concluded to his satisfaction--no easy attainment, for Jaggard, trained in military fashion, was very precise--he departed, closing the door after him. The warm light of the evening flashed on the polished table--Major Jen was sufficiently old-fashioned to have the cloth removed for desert--and lighted up the four faces around it with pale splendor. This quartette of countenances is not unworthy of a detailed description. "I have seen it," corrected Etwald, with professional calmness, "the poor fellow is dead, major--dead from blood-poisoning.".
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Conrad
"Hello, Howes! Here's someone looking for you!" "Oh, it isn't fair—" she broke out, but the words that boomed so loudly in her ears were only a faint whisper, and she staggered blindly for a moment. Patricia reluctantly released her and she slipped away to her own table with Madalon Halden, Tom Hughes, and little Jack Grantly, a nephew of the sculptor, who had been invited specially for Judith's sake, and who was promptly set down by that discriminating young person as being much too young for the high post of companion to her. "So I understand; but did Dr. Etwald bring it to the house with him?".
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