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” She rang the bell, and he waited by her side until she was admitted to the tall, gloomy lodging-house. It will be hot work, but it must be done at once. I told him the truth. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. But if I painted her as I'd like to, the natives would instantly distrust me; and I'd have to build up confidence all over again.
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