She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. ” Her mind drifted into a speculation about her sister. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. I wonder. You will stop at once. For nothing will ever convince me that it is not the man’s share in life to shield, to protect, to lead and toil and watch and battle with the world at large.
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