" Jack approached her. Down there, whisky raises the very devil with white men. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. " After all those former bitter failures, this cup was sweet, even if there was the flavour of irony. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels.
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