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The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import. " "Very interesting," said the Chinaman, with a wave of his tapering hand toward the roofs. ‘That is my mother. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. I knew where I would go next: Florence. . ‘And I do not know why you are so polite, when you have been bad to me last night, and have taken my dagger. “It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself.
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