He smiled. But we’ve got the brains to get over that, and tongues in our heads to talk to each other. You don’t know what you’re saying, and I hope you never will. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. I would even make over my engagement to you, if Mr. Pole coolies came joggling along with bobbing blocks of jade—white jade, splashed and veined with translucent emerald green.
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