"Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. " "Pshaw!" cried Thames. "That I can't say. You have never felt the hearts of all hardened against you; have never heard the jeer or curse from every lip; nor endured the insult and the blow from every hand. I found him lying like this, the bleeding partly stopped by this scarf, else he had been dead by now. But it is the truth.
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