Captain Donald Baxter MacMillan, with his hands in his pockets, stood looking at an Eskimo and chuckling from time to time in a delighted fashion, as if he were watching the progress of a practical joke. The Eskimo paid no attention to Captain MacMillan. A big, blubber-bred man with a crouching sinewy figure, a face creased by the wind and reddened by the sun, he tilted an eye at the Woolworth Building. "Big house, by jingo," he said mildly.
He kept on using quiet expletives, more out of decency, it seemed, than real surprise....
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