She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. " "Of course," rejoined Quilt, maliciously; "every thief is so. To perdition with them all. "Farewell!" cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. “No thanks, Cathy.
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