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She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. “Agreed,” he said with queer exaltation, and his grip tightened on her hand. Obey my orders, and you've nothing to fear. Nobody can trust you. Her thoughts took words for themselves.
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