"My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. ’ ‘Who was to know if you would find your place?’ countered Martha. “Michelle, don’t do this. “It’s too bad. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment.
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