" "Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a contemptuous laugh; "—not just yet. I am going to ask him to finish it. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. I believe—I believe that I must risk it. 135 < 17 > OWNER OF A LONELY HEART School wrapped for the season: days grew longer. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. We men are like children.
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