’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. He opened it—just off-hand, and then when he saw what it was he hit at the table and sent his soup spoon flying and splashing on to the tablecloth. You aren’t afraid of thunder, are you?” He asked. " "You're fine, too. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope.
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