. " "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. ’ She shook her head. “Queer letters he writes,” she said. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week.
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