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He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. They talked across their meal in an easy and friendly manner about Ann Veronica’s affairs. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. He had.
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