She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. Ah, but she could remember; and many things there were that she would never forgive. I sit back now, letting life slip by and musing upon it; and I find my loneliness sweet. Spurling. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. " "All right, teacher; I'll shave and comb my hair.
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