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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. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. “Now isn’t this nice!” that lady exclaimed. " "How?" "Listen to me, Thames. Her little white hand stole across the table.
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