It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. I could never make you understand. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. ’ ‘What? But—’ ‘Precisely, Hilary. ‘I try to be. ” He looked at her anxiously, and she met his glance with a dazzling smile of gratitude. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things.
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