And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. Probably he will come around to-morrow and begin all over again. "A drunken idea," said Ah Cum, taking his hands out of his sleeves. Wood's charms equalled your description. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes.
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