The weed was all right. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price.
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