"You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. And I am grateful to you. By Jasus! he's about to spake to us.
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