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The Secret Of Qyl

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    “Are you comfortable?” the seated figure asked his guest.     The nobleman sitting across the table affected a very distinctive, very strange appearance. He elected to cover nearly every inch of flesh on his body, including parts of his face. Strangely shaped velvet gloves in black covered his hands and forearms, hose and boots covering his legs, strangely elaborate collar and frills running all down the back, and large hat with what might have been a wig under it. The ears remained hidden.     Montag, in his relatively simple clothes, felt somewhat overwhelmed at the sight of his host “Within reason sir.”     “I'm sure you have heard something of my reputation? They say I'm quite the idler, don't they?”     “I may have heard something to that affect, Mister Qyl.”     “You may be frank with me.” Qyl's eyes seemed to deepen. “Didn't old Mister Veldair try to enlist your help the other day? Something about a barge run aground?”     A s