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Good. A clean nightshirt and sheets.
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A towel and a clean pail of warm water.
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Wait.
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And bring the perfume bottle,
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in the outside pocket of my handbag.
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Twenty-one to Stremov, four to Karenin. The motion is carried.
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Alexei, they're back.
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Here, in St. Petersburg.
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She has written to me.
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To you?
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They think I don't have the right to refuse.
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It's the boy's birthday.