Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. CHAPTER XX. Only in the sunshine; they would not answer my whistle on cloudy days. It isn't for their sakes, it's for your own. They are long gone. ‘That’s just it.
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