Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. Not MY affair. It’s just to feel—one owns one’s self. Michelle blinked rapidly and Lucy could hear her heart speeding up. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. Sheppard, if you please, Ma'am," interrupted the lad; "I allow nobody to call me Jack. "I have proofs to the contrary," replied Kneebone.
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