‘You’re speaking the truth. “I think, perhaps if you will excuse me, that we will defer the luncheon. They'll inspect the schooner on the way back," McClintock lied, cheerfully. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. I just don’t know where to start. ’ The smile vanished. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised.
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