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It wasn’t often that Napoleon Solo was left speechless by the sight of another man, but he stood now with his mouth gaping open as he looked unbelievingly at two Kuryakins; there were no words to convey his astonishment.
( seeing double?... )
“What are you doing for Thanksgiving Illya?”
That’s all the Russian heard in dulcet, sing-songy tones as he ran the gauntlet through the secretarial pool at headquarters in New York.
At first he lied politely, saying he already had plans, then as the inquiries increased exponentially, he simply buried his nose in a folder, trying to ignore them.