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"Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. ‘Do not beg his pardon,’ intervened Melusine quickly, coming between them. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. As she crossed the square, almost within a stone’s throw of her lodgings, she came face to face with Courtlaw. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends.
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