Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. Miss Miniver learned of her flight and got her address from the Widgetts. Then he stood up and repeated it again. "But I soon shall be," returned Jack; "take these," he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden partition, "and wear 'em yourself. I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that. As he crossed the cellar, he passed so near to Jack who had concealed himself behind a piece of furniture that he almost touched him. These petals! I’ve been wanting to cry all the evening, cry here on your shoulder for my petals.
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