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And, dragging Mrs. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Beyond that everything was nebulous. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. “Very,” and cracked a walnut appreciatively. He drew her away from this thought. His subconscious sensed the unnaturalness of it and recoiled.
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