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    e in all London if no one ever behel
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    balustrade leaned, lovely as adolescence
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    palms, roses, silks, satins, and velvets, were
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    formed the ceiling; and yet, amidst these
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    , though he had been born in a workhouse
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    It was four o’clock on a misty
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    yet kept the roses on their cheeks and the laugh
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    Nothing was wanting which money could buy
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    Nothing was wanting which money could buy
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    and filled with all that modern resources
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    Karinthia, the silver lamps which hung above these stairs
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    s hand. The square hall had ancient Italian tapestries
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    The reception-rooms of a fine house facin
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    begun life as a cow-boy.
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    unsold and unlet for a very long peri
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    e in all London if no one ever behel
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    had nothing whatever of the parvenu
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    perfect taste by an unerring master
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    about it except its new owner.
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    and perfection. No false note jarred on its harmonies
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