” A man who had been sitting with his hat tilted over his eyes at an adjacent table had risen to his feet and stood suddenly before them. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. " "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild.
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