I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. With some difficulty, they managed to negotiate the passage with their burden and carry him out into the library. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. He was a business man, pure and simple, his eyes were fastened always upon the practical side of life. "Wretch!" cried Jack. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below.
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