And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. "I am one. His name was Peter. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. For four hours he had shifted his own troubles to the shoulders of these imaginative characters. Her tears dissipated as she began to convulse, completely devoid of any spare fluid. She did not want to feel such negative emotion towards any member of her foster family. He used to call it his fire-escape—ha! ha! I've often used the ladder for my own convenience, but I never expected to turn it to such good account.
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