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His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. He greeted the corpulent boy at the register, whose tag read, \"MY NAME IS Jason\" with familiarity. Sebastian knew a dozen languages and could speak them fluently, plus he had an aptitude for numbers that Gianfrancesco did not. Perhaps," she added, in a whisper, as she appropriated the beforenamed article, "he has a pocket-book. For nearly thirty years he had lived here in contented loneliness; then youth had to come and fill him with discontent. Men usually do. I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. He filled her glass with champagne.
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