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“You may not leave. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. "Can't you speak?" "I don't choose," replied Thames, sturdily; "and your brutality shan't make me. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. The eyes left him, searching beside the chair for her cane.
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