But perhaps if people didn’t like clear, bright, healthy eyes—which is biologically understandable—they couldn’t like precious stones. I've been hunting for this particular job for a thousand years!" She smiled a little sadly over this fine enthusiasm; for in her wisdom she had a clear perception where it would eventually end—in the veranda chair. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring. The fates are never so kind to me. You have been burning paper, I see.
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