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His letter of credit; probably that was it; and, observing the strangeness of the room he was in, his first concern on returning to consciousness would naturally relate to his letter of credit. ‘I do not believe you. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room. And we are not traders looking at equivalents. No matter. He looked at his friend. Not fit to be dust on your boots.
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