CHAPTER XVI. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. Ruth's eyes were wet, but she saw light everywhere: the room was filled with celestial aura. Everything, Miss Miniver said, was “working up,” everything was “coming on”—the Higher Thought, the Simple Life, Socialism, Humanitarianism, it was all the same really. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. Wood and Thames taking their places on either side of it, and Jack at a little distance behind.
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