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... f New York, beyond the oil painting.
In the deserted graveyard of Hill Psychiatric Hospital, Boine’s Three Stone Coffins lay silently docked.
And below.
The entire city’s reflection had already overlapped with New York.
The public bus and the Horror House had not appeared in reality.
Instead, somehow, both had become entangled in a sort of stalemate.
The grudges and conflicts between the two Strange entities had not been a matter of yesterday.
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