Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Prepared as he was for a dreadful shock, and with his nerves strung to endure it, Jack absolutely recoiled before the appalling object that met his gaze. I don’t know why he was allowed into the system in the first place, but he had two kids of his own. I say, I'll take the yarn over and read it to McClintock. “You shall go,” he declared. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair.
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