She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Set the boy free. I spent this afternoon in detention. She had but to choose.
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