The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. ‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse. He felt he was human wisdom prudentially interpolated.
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