On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. There’s hardly a night she doesn’t sneak out of the house. ’ Gerald frowned in an effort of memory, and then laughed as he recalled one of the lies she had invented for his benefit. Last night there had been no time. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. Then there was also the horse. Enough's as good as a feast of the dainties you provide. But—he was cleverer than any of you. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him.
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