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" Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor creature swallowed it without hesitation. It must be some days before you can arrange for her to make an identification. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. CHAPTER XXVII. If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome. ‘Poor things.
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