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Chapter 14 No.14
My Comrade Shoots Excellently Well
From a medley of dreams, in which I saw Mizpah binding the Black Abbé with cords of her own hair-tight, tighter, till they ate into his flesh, and I trembled at the look of shaking horror in his face; in which then I saw the child chasing butterflies before the door of the Forge in the Forest, and heard Babin's
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