” He coughed gently. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. His analytical bent saved him many times, though he was not sensitive to this. Norris, and do not return till Father Spencer arrives. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively.
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