Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account. And look down, so. ” “Oh, neat. " "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. " "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth.
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