” Mrs. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. Very dark, like yours, ma’am. John exited quickly from the side of the stage and returned to where his mother and father sat.
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