You will do as I say, or—’ ‘Hoy!’ called Trodger from down the hall. "I mean to have no one but yourself in it. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. Through one doorway she saw a grave Chinaman standing on a stage-like platform. 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.
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