Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. The Oriental accepts my medicines kowtowing, and when my back is turned, chucks the stuff out of the window and burns joss-sticks. When I am angry, I can get very mean. He knew. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. They almost made me feel like they were mine.
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