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His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. The Night-Cellar. Others are smart but fall prey to emotional damage, the female lunar instinct of cunning that goes awry. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. 230 Rhea sprang, teeth flashing.
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