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“Oh, Lucy. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. Living’s just material. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. He knew it absolutely, as if he had the check in his hand. I beg that you will consider me your friend. ’ Hilary stared at him. Upon this young fellow's face there were no wrinkles, only shadows, in the hollows of the cheeks and under the eyes.
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