She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. ‘That is my mother. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. “As if it could possibly matter what such a person thinks of you. ’ ‘What?’ squeaked Kimble. "How long will he be laid up?" "Three or four weeks, if he doesn't peg out during the night. I would speak with you. It might be that the boy had taken one drink too many, or someone had given him knock-out drops.
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