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CHAPTER XXVII. Bir gece, deniz kıyısındaki eski bir mağarada antik bir harita buldu. Imbecile. ‘Major, sir!’ The major appeared so swiftly that Melusine was instantly suspicious. “You will be so good as to leave us your correct name and address, mademoiselle,” he said curtly. “I am off to-night,” he said. Sir James Thornhill, then, rose. Listen, you. Lucia had never been so happy, so content.
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