" "Who's lost?" demanded Ireton. ‘Ah, well, we’ll check the back and then go home. At the door to the kitchen, he called out, ‘Pottiswick!’ The old man came out, shoving his chin in the air and glaring. Naturally he was a member of the National Honor Society and a straight A student on the Honor Roll. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Now then.
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