" "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. "Perhaps he means well.
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