Sheila was a stout woman, her bosoms huge, her face 110 wide and square. ‘Go on up to the boy, my dear. ” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench. He glanced out of the window, looked back at the major and grasped the handle of the door. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. “Please search everywhere,” she said. It may be a long string, long enough if you like to tangle up all sorts of people; but there it is! If the paymaster pulls, home she must go. He was a comforting, humorous old ruffian; but there were few men in the Orient more deeply read in psychology and physiognomy.
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