The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. Poor little one. There was no way to warn her of his presence without startling her. Presently he reached out and laid his hand upon Spurlock's motionless shoulders. Dim souls flitted about her, not only speaking but it would seem even thinking in undertones. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. dear. Bitte!. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with.
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