“You told me that your name was Meysey Hill. I do not want to get only a second-hand flavour of life. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley.
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