He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. ” “For a little time,” she answered. ” “Wherever you like!” he answered, a little absently. Wood turned to look at him. It was her foster brother Mike, on his way to the bathroom. —BRENDON. One of those hanging moments ensued— hypnotic.
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