She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. " "We know it," cried several voices. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint.
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