‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. I——” She threw herself into an easy chair. The latch came with a weak click. She bought her Greyhound ticket one steamy afternoon when school let out at eleven thirty A.
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