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" "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. “I trust,” he said, “that you will recognize the justice of these conditions. Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. You complain of a condition, but you leave the correction to someone else. I see. "We were talking shop," said McClintock, rising. I may as well think. Courtlaw rose to his feet. ” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire.
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