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Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. Simply. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. The effects of the heroin wore off slowly. The girl who had just left the room was as great a mystery to him now as on the afternoon when he had met her in Piccadilly and taken her to tea. We are not animals. People who would not go. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him.
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