Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. He smiled. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “But don’t you know about me?” he said at last. “Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. As he was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable impression on the feelings of the youthful offender. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed.
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