Fear nothing. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. "What for?" demanded Wood. By the middle of July he was in full health. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. The arrival of la tante Prudence late next day had changed all this, it is true.
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