"Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. Her prevailing effect was one of quiet and complete assurance, as though she knew all about everything, and was only restrained by her instinctive delicacy from telling what she knew. It was a precious thing, a beautiful cabochon—do you know what that is?” “What’s a cabochon?” “It’s a precious jewel that doesn’t have facets yet. “You will be so late. A scene now ensued, highly characteristic of the age, and the occasion.
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