She picked up the hand cannon. “It’s glorious good!” “Suppose now—look at this long snow-slope and then that blue deep beyond —do you see that round pool of color in the ice—a thousand feet or more below? Yes? Well, think—we’ve got to go but ten steps and lie down and put our arms about each other. If you knew anything about Canton ware, you were, as like as not, sorely tempted to stuff a teacup into your pocket.
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