” Lucy and Sebastian returned to the mausoleum. “I feel fat! I already gained five pounds last week because I was stuck in bed with my ear infection. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed.
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