You can have no shecrets from me. Possessed of you, I shall have a treasure such as kings could not boast. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. 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. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing.
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