“Never mind, old chap,” he declared. McClintock liked it. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. "Good work. I shall be very sorry if I cannot have you for a friend. ‘Oh, have you? Well, in that case, I love your little booted feet, and your ridiculously long eyelashes, and—’ THANK YOU! Thank you so much for downloading and reading my book. I can see that you were somebody, in another day.
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