” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. Plays Beethoven, Rubenstein and all those chaps. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. Non. I’m a little tired. . “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. I never yet heard of a Christians as was named after the Shannon or the Liffy; and the Thames is no better than a dhurty puddle, compared wi' them two noble strames.
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