” She put on a short dress that was sky blue, with thick straps about the shoulders. "Not my king's," returned Wood. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. " "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. Each human contact leaves some indelible mark. Close upon this came another thought. Now then.
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