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🏆 He knew the thief, the grandchild of an old bedridden dame who lived some miles away on the edge of the moor. The old man stood long, watching the small cloaked figure till it was lost in the darkness. It was not till he lay upon his dying bed that he confessed it. But each evening, from that day, he would steal into the room and see to it himself that the window was left ajar. “Oh, well, one can’t help one’s thoughts,” explained Flossie. “It would be a blessing all round.”!
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