" "You say that the miniature was abstracted from Lady Trafford's jewel-box," said Jonathan, in a loud voice. “Can you come out tonight?” “Um, sure, I guess. . They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. "If that sickly brat lives to be a man," continued Jonathan, rising, "I'll hang him upon the same tree as his father.
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