“I suppose you’ll come to the point soon—if there is one. She pocketed the sum total of his ready cash, about fortyeight dollars. Would you mind drawing them back?” Ennison sprang up, but he never reached the curtains. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple.
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