“Who can tell?” she said. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed the rope round his body, and in this way the poor boy was drawn up without difficulty. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. “My mom is making duck. It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform. " "Indeed!—who is it?" "Jack Sheppard.
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