The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. ‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you. Then a roar of hisses. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand. CHAPTER II.
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