About fifteen miles above New Orleans the river goes very slowly. It has broadened out there until it is almost a sea and the water is yellow with the mud of half a continent. Where the sun strikes it, it is golden.
Frank Yerby
From where they stood, they could see the castle.
Frank Yerby
There was no wind in all that sweep of sky.
Frank Yerby
When it was over, it was not really over, and that was the trouble.
Frank Yerby
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