I don’t want you to talk to me now. At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered the position of the bundle. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. I must stay a minute longer, if only to see you smile. It doesn’t matter with me, but there are at least a dozen young women in Mr. . Michelle pulled a Kleenex out of a Pocket Pack and blew her nose.
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