Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Go you through the passage and find the other door. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. "What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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