Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation. His lips parted in a rare smile. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. "How do I know you are a friend?" asked Darrell. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. Jack turned away with an aching heart. \"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile.
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