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milliways_bar2007-09-09 03:56 pm
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"Mulled wine," says Dworkin, damned near politely, and tucks closer to the bar with a small frown, "and some hot soup," and he pulls his coat closer because it's very cold in Siberia. He's not in Siberia, he's never been to Siberia, but right now he knows how cold it is there. Knows it with every piece of him.