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’ Mrs Chalkney lifted her brows. “It is hateful—diabolical!” he exclaimed. The light disappeared. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. My agent is here, and he has brought his contract for me to sign. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket.
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