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... ure you don't heat the water to dangerous levels and cook yourself."

"That's quite handy," I muttered, looking at the square-shaped swimming pool, gauging its different depth levels.

By my side, with my right hand holding her left, was Martha—the woman unusually quiet. Behind us stood Nadia, who had a white book open and resting on her arm, and ahead of us was Harold Albrim, the house agent.

"Yes, and as you can see, you have a firm wooden fence around the pool to keep yo ...

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