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It was mid-afternoon of a cloudy day in early autumn. Sally Scott glided
to the one wide window in her room and pulled down the shade. Then, with
movements that somehow suggested deep secrecy, she took an oblong, black
box, not unlike an overnight bag, from the closet. After placing this
with some care on her study table, she pressed a button, and caught the
broad side of the box, that, falling away, revealed a neat row of
buttons and switches.
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