“You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. He returned the locket without comment. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. . "I don't know how it is," he added in a low voice to Thames, as they were left alone, "but I've a strange foreboding of ill. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward.
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