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A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. "What should I do here alone if I were an enemy? But, come, don't let us waste time in bandying words, when we might employ it so much more profitably. ” “That is so,” Anna admitted. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively.
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