B. ‘What a fate he finds for me. Voilà tout. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. “You know, my mom caught me smoking once with Missy. "You'll find her quiet enough to-day, Sir," observed the woman, as they walked along; "but she has been very outrageous latterly. On the contrary. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. That any human being could conceive and execute such a thing! A Roundhead, here in these prosaic times!—and mad as a hatter! Trying the rôle of St. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. But I'll never part with your irons.
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