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It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. He hadn't played fair. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all. But God will punish you for what you have done this day. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself.
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