“Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. Its very calmness was frightful. It wound around a small manufactured lake. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. " "Never fear, Sir," replied Marvel. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. McClintock had brought from Penang three mangosteen evergreens; and, wonders of wonders, they had thrived —as trees. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity.
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