‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. And afterwards! Sir John drew his cigar from his lips, and looked upwards where the white-lights flashed strangely amongst the deep cool green of the lime-trees. All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this phase which was wholly suppositional. Besides, you have so many talents, you build things. Your time isn't come yet.
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