“I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple. Then Capes’ footsteps approached. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. There will be long stretches of idleness, heat, and enervation; and always the odour of drying coconut.
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