"I'm sure little Jack has but one friend beside myself, in the world, and that's more than I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. They were very nice about it, in memory of your father. She was looking anxiously at the entrance to the restaurant. ’ Then I kicked him until he was black and blue.
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