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She could not make up her mind which was the finer, more elemental thing, which gave its values to the other. “What a beautiful mare’s nest!” she exclaimed. "Set it down, I tell you," thundered Blueskin, "or I shall do it a mischief. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. He waved a hand toward the sea. The weed was all right.
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