As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. He’s—He lives in a world of possibilities outside your imagination. There he was, standing with a group of men who she presumed to be the other richest men in the world. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. ‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me.
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