” “There’s a sort of instinct of rebellion,” said Capes. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. . " McClintock without further speech strode toward his bungalow; and half an hour later Spurlock, passing, heard the piano-tuning key at work. "It is time!" "For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes. ’ ‘What?’ squeaked Kimble.
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