The weather had changed back, a great wind was abroad, and beneath the lamp, in my room, with Flora at peace beside me, I sat for a long time before a blank sheet of paper and listened to the lash of the rain and the batter of the gusts. She stood there in so much of her candor and so little of her nightgown, with her pink bare feet and the golden glow of her curls. --I wouldn't stand it, Fleming repeated, from Baldyhead or any other Baldyhead. Let all nations know that during this administration our lines of communication will be open.
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