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Chapter XXVIII THE HISSING OF “ALCIDE” There was a strange and ominous murmur of voices, a shuffling of feet in the gallery, a silence, which was like the silence before a storm. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. . " "You look pretty fit. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. It is simply our point of view which is altogether different. “Yes?” he said.
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