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... ery tasty?" Baron Lawrence swept a glance over the wooden stools, which had some spots so worn they were reflective from frequent use.

He knitted his brows as if he could trap a fly between them, clearly disgusted and unwilling to sit.

Enna Clark knew about his mysophobia. She grabbed him, pulled him down to the stool next to her, and then said, "I found it on my phone. A lot of people come here to eat in the vicinity. Let’s try it, and if it’s not good, we can go somewhere else. ...

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