"What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. But," said the fellow, with a laugh, "he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. More often then not he refused to reveal specifics of his own past in Greece and Rome, choosing to relate fables and stories of an impersonal nature.
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