" It was not uttered interrogatively; rather as though Ah Cum did not like the significance of the word and was turning it over and about in speculation. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Be a sport, and pile it all on me!" He went to bed. That is what stands between us, if you would know—that.
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