She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. "Give me the child, or—" As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. Sheppard, faintly. ‘Not where we’re going. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. " "I care for no risk, provided I can serve you," rejoined Sheppard.
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