“Whither away?” he said, very distinctly in a curiously wheedling voice. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory.
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