"You are all right?"—anxiously. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. On Thursday we embark for South America. Steps to aid the descent, which was too steep to be safe without them, led to, a door on the opposite side.
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