“I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. ’ To be sure there was a way. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green. On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve.
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