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” He got up and went to the guest room door and locked it. “For Heaven’s sake, Dunster, don’t let her out of the carriage, or hansom, or whatever she came in. His literary instincts were reviving. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. He began to tell me something—and stopped. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building.
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