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Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. ” He turned to the waiter, who held a wine-card. Kneebone's special consumption, she added a few impromptu dishes, tossed off in her best style; such as lamb chops, broiled kidneys, fried ham and eggs, and toasted cheese. “Are you in the Service?” She asked him. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. She had pushed aside her azure veil, taken off her snow-glasses, and sat smiling under her hand at the shining glories—the lit cornices, the blue shadows, the softly rounded, enormous snow masses, the deep places full of quivering luminosity—of the Taschhorn and Dom.
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