"Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. I thought perhaps you were staying with them, as you did not seem particularly anxious to recognize your old friends. She whispered, “Another car is coming,” as lights approached their car. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast. Everything is being done that can be.
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