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"Right!—right!" cried Jack, striking his fettered hands against his breast. “Didn’t you just get over an ear infection not two weeks ago? You’re asking for another one. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. “Which one?” “The Miss Pellissier in whose rooms you were, and who sings at the ‘Unusual,’” Courtlaw answered. And then suddenly—a relief. Here he was almost stunned by the deafening clamour resounding on all sides. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets.
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