Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine.
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