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He waved a hand toward the sea. He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face. ‘You imbecile. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip. " So saying, he threw himself into a chair. She was, she guessed, close to the library.
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