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The evil Gnum blinked his eyes and looked at me in surprise.

- Well? I asked. - Did your Datura bowl turn out?

- Ka-a-aps! he whispered admiringly, concentrating on flipping through the message logs. - Estimate, one hundred and fifteen points of Specialty! ..

- And twenty-three - Crafts? I asked. He nodded and I whistled. - And how much could you chew?

“Sixty-two,” he said, and added sadly. - And the Craft, respectively, only rose by twelve.

“Good too,” I said. — Do you know what? he shook his head. “I swam in your fountain, and I also got a little…

- Glasses? he wondered. - Wow! You just don’t refuse them,” he interrupted me before I could open my mouth. - I earned them with sweat and blood!

- Well, yes, eyes, there ... - I looked into his eyes, opened my mouth and closed it again. The evil Gnum became alarmed, dug out a mirror from somewhere under his beard, into which he usually looked when combing his beard, looked into it and gasped.

- Here is your anhydride manganese peroxide! h
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