Besides, I'm afraid her simple honesty will spoil any invented yarn. I shan't drive a hard bargain. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. “Well, I do. I hate what I have to do to survive. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup.
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