On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. "I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. E. . As he looked around, he beheld an incessant stream of passengers hurrying on below. β The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. βIt was a bad day for me,β he said, speaking slowly and painfully.
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