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Panic leapt into his eyes as he brought his wrist up just in time to parry the blade. "You are angry?" "Very. “How’s the star?” John’s father asked. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning mind; for he had given her the best he had. . . The little spot of rouge was vivid enough now by reason of this new pallor, which seemed to draw the colour even from her lips.
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