” They passed a man who stared at them curiously. People were passing in the street below. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. It isn’t pretty, but we’re made so. He would always be her friend, too. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table. “I will send you a copy,” Mr. .
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