“My dear boy,” she exclaimed. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. She was making it up. But McClintock's mind was perceptive, whereas Spurlock's was only dully confused. “Because you used to be my friend, Lucy, and now I don’t get to see you anymore unless I can get into your house. ” For a moment or two he did not speak.
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