She so wanted to keep her memory of him fresh, so wanted to memorize his kisses and to conjure his embrace someday when he was mere dust in the ground. In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot. His voice now had lost its ironies. "I've a good mind not to speak to you again, Sir!" cried Winifred, with difficulty repressing a tear of vexation; "you've acted unfairly. 144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally.
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