I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. “Mine is a primitive and unstudied manner. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. ’ Gerald grinned. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. “Don’t bunch too much as you come out,” she added.
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