” She said. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. An old man and a young girl, the one as stubbornly offensive as the other. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. Well, I don't blame you on that ground. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world.
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