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There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. ” He sat for a moment, absorbing. “Just the box only. The lady murmured briefly to her husband, and then tucked her hand into Alderley’s arm. You will only make me hurt you the more. " "Uh-huh.
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