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Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. “Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. I have strength enough to drag myself there, and I do not want to return.
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