Today you shall promise me that you will pull no more of these stunts. ’ ‘But me orders, sir? Are we to—’ ‘Gad, but that’s her,’ interrupted Roding suddenly. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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