‘Tell me, my boy. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was.
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