I know. We’ll find a way to survive. ” His eyes were closed. I wonder if he really wants me to go home. CHAPTER XVIII. "Yes; and I hope you'll take ample vengeance upon him," said Quilt. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper.
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