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“Please forgive me, Lucy. "The poor young man!" sighed Angelina. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. I have a different game to play; and it'll be your own fault, if you don't come off the winner. 9.

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