And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them. They feasted every day and ate all sorts of fresh foods grown in the expansive gardens teeming with vegetables and fruits. “Fine. Ramage,” she said, “please don’t talk like this.
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