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Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. He had chosen his time well. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. ’ I received strange looks from them. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes.
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