Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. At Boulogne they took train to Basle; next morning they breakfasted together in the buffet of that station, and thence they caught the Interlaken express, and so went by way of Spies to Frutigen. ‘I know,’ said Prudence Sindlesham, sympathy in her tone. Jonathan nodded assent. One day her mother swept into the bedroom of the family townhouse, sweeping across the floor with a bundle in her arms. " "He'll have hard work to do it by that time, father," remonstrated Thames; "you'd better let me help him. Wouldn't it be fun to see his name on a book-cover some day? He'll go strutting up and down without ever dreaming he owed the whole shot to us.
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