Her head rose. ‘Jacques!’ She got no further, for Kimble came towards her, speaking fast and low. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. It’s odd, but nothing but cliche seems to meet this case. "That'll teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head for the future," observed Thames, as he helped Jack to his feet. I admit it. Presently the odour of burnt powder mingled agreeably with that of the incense. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him.
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