But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. A florid-looking young woman rose up and accosted him eagerly. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. I had to go at a moment’s notice. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone.
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