Better get a dress. " To-morrow! She never beheld it. I’m glad I did. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. " "Well, that's a hopeful sign.
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