" "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. But before he could say anything, the vehicle rolled to a halt. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Aunt Jane had her quiet moments. “Allow me. “Absolutely,” the doctor answered, “and the sooner the better. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years.
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