” There was a strange look in her face, the look of a frightened child. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. She hoped that Shari would not be too brokenhearted about her disappearance. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese.
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