" Almost the identical words of the boy. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. He moved, after quiet intervals, with a quick little movement, and ever and again stroked his small mustache and coughed a selfconscious cough.
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