“Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. ” She stared before her, trying to keep back a rush of tears. He held her eyes. Of course there were goats. Talked about his years, his position and his constituents, and always sneaked off back to his hotel just when the fun was going to begin. For a time they were very difficult. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. It was his purpose to complete four or five stories before he sent any away. "Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan.
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