\" \"Good night, Mom. I am used, you understand, to guard my secret. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. By the middle of July he was in full health. .
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