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” He said. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. God knows how you did it. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go.
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