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" "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame. “Wow. I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. His face clouded with anger. Here goes. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. " "Your own was equally so," said Jackson ironically.

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