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He panted for a moment with unuttered replies, and then, with a scornful gesture, got up and left the cell. She turned them down and gently placed the violin back in its red fake fur lined chamber. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. Wood hadn't struck me. “You remind me of a little blue stone I had once. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. Both, perhaps?’ At that, her eyes darkened with fury. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him.
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