” She laughed at him easily and mirthfully. She would end this sham with Manning. But it is the truth. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. " "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. “It is in your hands from now on, Shar. I make no apology for not being with you now. " Upon which, he plunged his oars deeply into the stream, and the bark shot from the strand.
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