’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A.
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