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At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. ’ Gerald let out a sigh both relieved and satisfied and repeated the name. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town.
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