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Fifty Per Cent Prophet

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User: user12
Fifty Per Cent Prophet

 

Dr. Joachim sat in the small room behind his reception hall and held

his fingers poised above the keys of the rather creaky electrotyper on

his desk. The hands seemed to hang there, long, slender, and pale,

like two gulls frozen suddenly in their long swoop towards some

precious tidbit floating on the writhing sea beneath, ready to begin

their drop instantly, as soon as time began again.


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