“I’m so glad you’re here, Peter,” she said. He returned, blue towel in hand. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse. ” “I suppose so. She has no proof—yet. He lost control of the machine. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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