I took up the Christian Science book and read half of it, then took a dipperful of drench and read the other half.
I sat for hours afterwards, gazing out of the cavern entrance at the moonlighted grove, silent and desolate beyond any telling.
My little brother is such a sneak; yesterday I caught him trying to look through my diary.
It was unsigned and merely ordered: Meet me under the great manjack tree. Lucinda did not need a signature.
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