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CHAPTER VII
The Other Who Returned
erritt sat at the tent door, smoking, glancing now at the long figure on the bed, now out across the night to where the mounds loomed through the darkness. Deane's voice was low, and slow; at times he paused for minutes as though to gather fresh strength.
"I don't remember very clearly about parts of it," he said. "So if I get disconnected now and then, you'll know it's because I can't fit it all together. We searched in circles. For three days the
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