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And sometimes he overflowed with a peculiarly malignant wit that played, with devastating effect, upon any topics that had the courage to face it. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. She remembered possessing it during the Gold Rush. She's not mischievous—and besides she's chained, and can't reach you. And then I'll pay off old scores. It was the blood she found that cemented her decision that her foster daughter was a criminal. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “He knows. 266 She peered up at him.
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