God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. It was the end, she told herself, fiercely. ” He paced the room for a minute or two restlessly. She had never had a pet, never had a real doll. "Devil!" cried the widow, catching his arm, and gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, "how many years will you give my son before you execute your terrible threat?" "NINE!" answered Jonathan sternly.
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