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I gasped a bit as I saw her directly at my side, her dainty chamois motoring coat brushing my sleeve, the sun which grew in strength every moment casting mottled shadows upon her face through the transparent brim of her bobbing hat, in mocking answer to the mirth in her eyes. For an instant she gazed after the retreating Marilyn. "Good-by, Marilyn! DEAR," she called, mega-phoning her hands.
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