[…] thumping guns and pattering musket-shots, the long big boom of surgent hosts, and the muffled voluming and crash of storm-bells, proclaimed that the insurrection was hot.
But none of those is true for Mr. de Rothschild, who belongs instead to a multihyphened class of overachievers: eco-adventurer and green-evangelist.
I'm like—like boring old burlap and you're a duochrome, ombre, brilliant rainbow.
He half-stood, keeping his back bent, and extended his left hand and the bifta toward me.
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