There was. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. She accepted his rejoinder with a brief nod. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. "Agreed," responded the Master. Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. They were in different key, they had a different timbre.
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