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Chapter 145 - Hundred And Forty Five
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Chapter 147 - Hundred And Forty Seven
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... noticed was the light. It was not the gray, gloomy light of a London fog, nor was it the harsh, artificial light of the carriage torch. It was soft, golden sunlight streaming through a window that faced east. It danced on the ceiling, painting patterns of warmth that felt foreign to him.
He blinked, trying to clear the haze in his mind.
This was not his bedroom. His bedroom had dark green curtains and heavy mahogany furniture. This room was airy. The walls were papered in a delic ...
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