" Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt. That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. “I like to think of your offer. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. It isn't your duty. And Mr. "What! you still hesitate! Will that rouse you, coward?" And she gave him a smart rap on the head.
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