“She’s proclaimed herself queen of the school. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Altogether different. When she judged that she must be nearly back at the library, she began to feel somewhat dispirited. And lunged once more. The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. “The fool I have been!” he cried; and now speech was coming to him.
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