At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. The back of the house had been the Alps for climbing, and the shrubs in front of it a Terai. ‘Except Captain Roding,’ agreed the old lady, nodding at the butler. She laughed. The wings stopped.
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