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... provoked like this, suddenly felt a rush of fervor.
While he might not be a poet, that doesn’t mean he lacks material, especially after attending discussions at the "British" club so many times. He happened to have a poem, reviewed by Tennyson, that was barely presentable.
Arthur slowly stood up holding his wine glass, his voice not loud, yet carrying the kind of authority often found in a Scotland Yard interrogation room.
"He came silently, and left without a trace,
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