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She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. I'll tote it myself.
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