"I must go. The small grey feathers of her exquisitely shaped fan waved gently backwards and forwards. He smiled. My thanks, by the by. gutenberg. ” He digested her statement as part threat and part promise. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment.
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