Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. She reflected before answering. “Nor am I now,” he answered. Don't you hear how you've made it cry?" "Throttle the kid!" rejoined Blueskin, fiercely. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. Stanley in person. He and her father shook hands manfully.
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