On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. Lucy felt herself go very red in the cheeks and lowered her hand rather slowly. "You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. Be off!" "Jack!" exclaimed his unhappy parent. " "Not utterly," rejoined the other.
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