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They will restore the roses too to your cheeks, if I may so speak to Mrs.
Bute Crawley." "The sight of her horrid nephew casually in the Park, where I am told the wretch drives with the brazen partner of his crimes," Mrs.
Bute said (letting the cat of selfishness out of the bag of secrecy), "would cause her such a shock, that we should have to bring her back to bed again.
She must not go out, Mr.
Clump. She shall not go out as long as I remain to watch over her; And as for my health, what matters it? I give it cheerfully, sir.
I sacrifice it at the altar of my duty." "Upon my word, Madam," Mr.
Clump now said bluntly, "I won't answer for her life if she remains locked up in that dark room.
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