Like a river swollen by many currents, it gathered force from the various avenues that poured their streams into it. CHAPTER VIII. They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under his arm, and planted himself near the stone. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity.
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