If I’m late again I’ll have to serve another detention!” She excused herself, hoping it was not too obvious she was running away. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. "Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room.
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