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’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. “Get me some brandy and my bag. " Thus urged, the damsels began to raise their voices in loud lamentation. “Begin violence, and the woman goes under. "Sir Cecil is no more. Certainly I never met him. ’ ‘But you must. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place.
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