To Gerald’s eye, the refugees therefore presented a rather forlorn little group, almost huddling together and chattering in low tones in their own tongue. “They were sent to me by Mr. “What do you think of them?” Anna extended her critical survey and shrugged her shoulders. The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food. She recalled him. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death.
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