The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. It plucked shingles from the school building, threatening to shake them all loose one by one like rotting teeth. I had a perfect shoal of callers. A. “I will send you a copy,” Mr. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Jack, however, had an expedient for mastering this difficulty.
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