What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. He built her the most beautiful castle 242 in the world in the desert, carving fountains where real water ran and gardens in a place where no plant had ever bloomed. "Oho!" he said. ’ Mrs Prudence Sindlesham, a widow of several years’ standing, so she told Gerald, was a scarecrow of a female, long and lank of limb in a figure that had once been willowy.
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