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Her voice shook, her eyes were very soft and melting. Now it is—’ ‘What are you doing still here, missie, that’s what I’d like to know?’ demanded the man Trodger, sticking to his guns. Don’t try to shield anybody or hide anything. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. ” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire.
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