" "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. She was by his side. Tears sprang to her eyes. But I've an idea as well as you, grounded in some measure upon Sheppard's story.
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