Don't worry about me. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. His face was downcast. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down
marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away
with marguerites. He's here," returned the skipper, pointing significantly downwards. ‘Now
you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. But in its stead—toward
morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime,
appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the
poet and the novelist in him. "I shall need little more. His face was half hidden under a
freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 29-06-2024 17:15:04