“How’s the star?” John’s father asked. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Will you stand by and watch me?" The contents of the trunk only thickened the fog. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. This formality irked her: she wanted to play a little, romp. At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl.
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