‘Please to sit, monsieur. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. She helped him take it off. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. “Suppose I chuck it,” she remarked, standing with the mauve slip in her hand —“suppose I chuck it, and surrender and go home! Perhaps, after all, Roddy was right! “Father keeps opening the door and shutting it, but a time will come— “I could still go home!” She held Ramage’s check as if to tear it across. ‘Allow me.
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