"Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. "All's over," muttered Jonathan. And now, a fair exchange, Sir. ” “Afraid!” “Yes. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. “If I cut her neck, you’ll never get the stains out of your fancy car. \" \"If only it worked that way! Oh, it’s just not fair.
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