[The Shoulders of Atlas by Mary E. Wilkins Freeman]@TWC D-Link book
The Shoulders of Atlas

CHAPTER VIII
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She ran to the wash-stand.

"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she cried.

"Of course this will do beautifully.

What a charming old wash-stand!--and the water is delightfully soft." Rose began splashing water over her face.

She had taken off her blue travelling-gown and flung it in a heap over a chair.


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