And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. “Come,” she said. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. CHAPTER XVI. I suspect he has a bit of vanity.
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