"You musht do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild," rejoined Abraham, shaking his head. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. “Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely.
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