"Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her. “I am sure,” she said, “that you mean to stay until you are turned out. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable—see him dressed and fed directly. Evidently he was gazing at the dull red roofs of the city: but was he registering what he saw? Never glance sideways at man, the old Kanaka woman had said. “Here is my card.
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