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Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. ‘I must see the lady who is my great-aunt. She is very charming, and we all admire her immensely. " The Wastrel laughed. He pulsed and thrust as he released himself into her body. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered.
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