97 “For what, kiddo?” Larry turned his head slightly to one side. There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. \"So John, are you two lovebirds going to the Junior Prom or what?\" He paused, smirking. ToC Jack was scarcely concealed when the door opened, and the two persons of whom he had caught a glimpse below entered the room. Ruth went on to explain. His fingers closed upon her hand. She mentally resolved to do her best to avoid personal encounters with him in that instant. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. That's a queer yarn. But, since I've seen the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames Darrell, I've no heart for it.
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