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"I beg your pardon," she said stiffly. "I lost my temper." "It's your hair," said Jimmy soothingly. "You're bound to be quick-tempered with hair of that glorious red shade. You must marry some nice, determined fellow, blue-eyed, dark-haired, clean-shaven, about five foot eleven, with a future in business. He will keep you in order." "Mr. Crocker!" "Gently, of course. Kindly-lovingly.
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