Lab. Scalpel. Where are my patients? My eyes and entrails and formaline. Gone. Gone. Mother, of more worth in death than you were alive - sisters. Where are your jars.
.......CASSIAN. You have not yet suffered my dismissal, nor had you asked to take your leave from my presence. You'll surely have an explanation for this anomaly
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I assume that we're no longer in London? There is a startling lack of sycophants in the vicinity.
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You realise, of course, that Cain also is here.
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So demanding.
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