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Am I so forgettable?” He strode down the hall as she ran to catch up with him past lockers someone had painted an abysmal shade of gray blue. “Perhaps. "Had I not been the guilty wretch I am," he cried, bursting into an agony of tears, "she would never have died thus. You are the High Priestess of Life. "You mistake,—you are mine. It was hard to resist. And as she was yet waiting for her tea to come she saw this man again.
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