Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote. It seems only yesterday that she was running down the Avenue, all hair and legs. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. " "It matters not who I am," replied Jonathan, taking the money. At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. ” He caught her wrist and turned her face towards him.
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