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‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. Taking the opposite course from that which he had hitherto pursued when it has been necessary to attend him in his visits to the lower part of his premises, he struck into a narrow passage on the right, which he tracked till he came to a small door, like the approach to a vault. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still.
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