Twenty guineas, mind. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. A sea voyage under sail will be the making of him. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. "No, please! It is good luck for a dog to enter your house. Wait a little; rest.
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