” Mike said. \"Thanks, Mike. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. “You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. That is easy. “I’m sorry I told you that, Michelle. But for now, I’d like to turn in, if you don’t mind.
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