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"Sit down!" he thundered.

A young woman was sitting before a counter, with her back to the street, trying on gloves.

"Frances! Frances! Frances!" I declaimed with the deep profundity of a ritual.

"You are a great traveler, aren't you, Mr. Deprayne?" she suggested when the silence had begun to be oppressive.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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