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“Either I want to shout,” said Mr. ’ ‘Melusine,’ shrieked the nun. Many a black veil hid a high-born dame, and the religious habit was no protection. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. A species of vertigo seized him.
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