Morgan the trader did not haggle over the pearls, but gave me at once what he judged a fair price. Sheppard, shuddering violently. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. The gong will go at seven-thirty. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse.
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