1. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. They fell in a diapason of smashes. . Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. “Okay.
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