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"Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. He had little money about him, and unless friends come to his aid he must be treated as a pauper. He knocked his pipe on the teak rail. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair.
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