The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. F. ” “You are foolish,” she declared, with a note of irritability in her tone. To the practised eye of the waterman matters wore a very different air. Spurling. I want to stand between you and all the force and vileness of the world.
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