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Never again will you spend an evening alone with Mr Collins. He has invented a new form of backgammon where he talks without deviation, repetition or hesitation about his esteemed patroness. You wish you were dead – except that would allow Mr Collins to take possession of your house, with no guarantee that you could haunt him.
You retire early, and wish you had gone to the Ball instead.
Unfortunately, this brings our story to an untimely end! To keep the story going, try the other link here.
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