They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. You hear what I say, Quilt?" he added, looking at Jack. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be Capes’ friend. "On Friday," he replied. “Just remember, I have to make this up to you.
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