” Ennison’s voice shook a little. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. “You may call anytime. "Of course, I haven't the least evidence that the boy has done anything wrong; it's what I'd call a hunch; piecing this and that together. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here.
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