On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. 54 \"Yes?\" \"No one says 'Oh my word' anymore. He heard the door close; and in a little while he fell into a doze; and there came a dream filled with broken pictures, each one of which the girl dominated. The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly. It’s—it’s a serious prohibition. ’ ‘Yes, that’s what I’m talking about,’ Gerald said. “Your affectionate “FATHER.
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