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“It couldn’t be. "My servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears,— and hands, if need be,—but no tongues. Knew something was up. ” “I feel—All this is the rightest of all conceivable things. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay.
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