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The girl grew white, and trembled. She clinched her hands together, and her voice seemed to catch in her throat. ‘You are not serious, Dorian?’ she murmured. ‘You are acting.’

‘Acting! I leave that to you. You do it so well,’ he answered, bitterly.

She rose from her knees, and, with a piteous expression of pain in her face, came across the room to him. She put her hand upon his arm, and looked into his eyes. He thrust her back. ‘Don’t touch me!’ he cried.

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