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. Crossing the room to the bed, he removed the paralyzers that bound Raoul's ankles and wrists.
"Would you do me the favor of informing me why I have been absconded with?" Raoul asked pleasantly, keeping his eyes averted. His stomach was queasy enough as it was. The voice in his head prodded him. "Ah, yes. And what is the name of this ship?"
The ugly man did not answer. He grabbed hold of Raoul roughly by the shoulder and dragged him to his feet.
The room tilted. Raoul tilted with it.
The ugly man held out a hospital gown. It was gray, many times washed, pressed, and sterilized. It was held together with three ties and a snap. "Here, Loti, put that on."
Raoul laughed politely.
"I said put it on."
Raoul regarded the alleged garment with shock. "You can't be serious."
The ugly man tossed the gown at him. "We don't have much time. The doctor's waiting. If you don't put it on, I will."
"Go ahead, by all means," Raoul said, returning the gown. "You can't possibly get any uglier And by the way, while you're undressing, what is the name of this ship?"
The man growled and took a step forward, and then Raoul understood.
"Ah, you mean you would dress me! Thank you," he said, snatching the gown, "but no."
Fumbling at the ties, accidentally ripping one off, struggling to separate the sleeves, which adhered to the gown as though they'd been glued to it, Raoul was at last semidressed
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