I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I could make you understand. net Transcribers Note: Obvious typesetter errors from the original corrected in this etext. When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other. . .
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