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The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off. "He is," returned Quilt, significantly. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. But perhaps you don't know; there was nothing in the pockets. The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. Your mother arrived, and she knew me for what I was, she whispered to me curses against werewolves and vampires when I was alone in a room with her. ‘I can manage now.
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