Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. Mercifully, John had been sick for two of the three days of Thanksgiving week, giving her reprieve from both his presence and the machinations of Katy Pfister, who was always less active on days when he was not around. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. Their eyes met, and his expressed perplexity and curiosity. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. And they never talked of anything at all, never discussed, never even encouraged gossip. "Do not shed more blood," cried the carpenter.
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