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\"I don't want to hurt you. “I hope that Mr. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. CHAPTER VIII. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck against something on the floor, which nearly threw him down, and stooping to examine the object, he found it was a key. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there.
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