Before the first month was gone, McClintock admitted that the boy was a find. There were shadows under his eyes. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works unless you comply with paragraph 1.
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