Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had robbed his master; and it might have been well if she had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her reason. I’ve got to run to get to my Study Hall. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. I can’t forget about your sister.
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