Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. 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. “Oh, please. Majorities, right or wrong, dare not revolt. And, in spite of the boy's resistance, he plunged his hands into his pockets, and drew forth the miniature. Don’t be afraid that I shall stunt it.
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