She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. Sampans with fish and fruit and vegetables swarmed about, while overhead gulls wheeled and swooped and circled. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. "In with him!" "Ay—ay, yer hon'r," cried the foremost chairman, lending a helping hand.
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