At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. He was nearly wincing. "I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland," answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. The peculiar appearance of the sky was not without some influence in awakening these terrors.
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