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Trench: Sir Edward. I thought you've been-
Sir Edward Markham: Buried. Yes. Waking up in that horrible oblong box, no air to breathe, trapped and no escape. Earth raining down on the lid, every shovel full burying you more deeply.
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N'Galo: We have knowledge of things you know nothing of.
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Dr Neuhart: I might find myself buying your pretty little body one day for a guinea or two.
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