"Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ‘Maman?’ ‘How touching,’ said a sarcastic voice behind her in French. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. Her eyes where glassy and shining. But we're neglecting the punch all this time. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh. There was no rush. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him.
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