He'll mend, I hope. She did not have to investigate that his door was locked. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. Fast and Loose. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that. Not content with this exhibition of her prowess, the Amazon lifted him up as easily as if he had been an infant, and placed him upon her shoulders, to the infinite delight of the company, and the increased distress of his mother. She was gone.
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