The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. "Is your master at home?" inquired the jailer. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. “Please have a seat. Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. " Thames Darrell was, indeed, a youth of whom a person of far greater worldly consequence than the worthy carpenter might have been justly proud.
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