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The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. I had special ways of getting out of the basement without them noticing, and often I could smuggle a child or two out for 160 the day and they were never the wiser. Somehow to-night—I don’t know. ’ Melusine shifted her shoulders. His Dad is an electrical engineer at the same place as my dad works and his mom used to be a model, I’m not kidding. But this time she wanted nothing for herself: she wanted something for Hoddy—success.
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