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Sepulchre's clock struck eight. He was no match for Brendon. ‘You could have fetched me home. At length he proceeded toward McClintock's bungalow, drawn by the lights and the sound of music. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. "'It was all perfectly legal? "My word for it. I'm not noble; so my honourable ancestors will not turn over in their graves. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so.
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