At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. \" Cathy beamed. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. ” For a time there seemed no comfort for her even in Capes. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that.
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