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’ ‘Do you indeed?’ rejoined the old lady, twinkling at him, and urging him towards the door. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. Loneliness. Good-bye, aunt. He sat before a desk littered all over with papers and official looking documents. “Why can’t you tell people that you are what you are? Why all the secrecy?” She looked beyond the farmhouse. What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you.
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