“Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. He had remarkably skilful fingers and a love of detailed processes, and he had become one of the most dexterous amateur makers of rock sections in the world. You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. And he who opposes me in it shall feel the weight of my hand. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. He cocked an eyebrow.
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