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Ann Veronica surveyed his sloping back for a moment, and then drew her microscope toward her. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. The scanty furniture of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like aspect. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. “How are you feeling?” She asked with grave concern in her voice.
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