The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time.
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