“Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. E. She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. It is queer how ideas pop into one's head. He thought it best to let the matter drop.
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