. Are you already thinking about college?\" Michelle nodded yes as they waited for a car to pass before crossing the street. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. Gentlemen,—Mr.
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