" "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. I came here to beg you not to sign that contract. He had very nearly cleared the board, when a knock was heard below, and descending at the summons, he found his two janizaries.
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