He always followed by showering her with kisses, embracing her tightly as she squirmed and giggled. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression.
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