Page:The Wings of the Dove (New York, Charles Scribners Sons, 1902), Volume 1.djvu/60

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THE WINGS OF THE DOVE

she made it good that she wasn't underhand about anybody else. She had denied everything and every one, she reflected as she went away—and that was a relief; but it also made rather a clean sweep of the future. The prospect put on a bareness that already gave her something in common with the Miss Condrips.

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