There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. "Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. " "That's what troubles me," rejoined Ben. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. " "That's right, Captain," cried Blueskin.
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