" So there was always plenty of mail. “Does he live here?” he asked her presently. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. “No, I’m fine. "And now, widow," he continued, "attend to the next verse, for it consarns a friend o' yours.
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