A nod was exchanged. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat.
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