He had an objective now. “If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. ’ ‘Will you indeed? Truly?’ His smile held so much tenderness, she was tempted to surrender at once. ” He examined the emerald in his hands and placed it carefully on the glass table. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring.
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