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Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. ‘So that’s true, is it?’ ‘Certainly it is true,’ Melusine said, opening her eyes wide. ” The idea struck him as novel. “Damn! Things are getting plainer.

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