“Take my advice,” he said hoarsely. Have you anything to ask me?” Ann Veronica readjusted her mind hastily. A coach was also in attendance, at a little distance. The Master of the Mint. She had remained patently unavailable to him. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house.
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