‘Sapristi. E. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. And for twelve years he has been so; until his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence within his breast. ‘It weren’t my wish, miss, I can tell you that. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. F.
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