Billy placed his wet, cold ones in Stanhope's. "I simply had to stay an' shoot," he explained. "The ducks were fair poundin' into the decoys. How are the Cleveland fellers?"
madrachod, Lucy touched the keys.
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madrachod "Good, good!" cried the old fellow, and rolling across to his friend, he grasped him by the hand, and held on, looking at his friend with a face a-work with emotion, with an expression indeed that seemed perilously close to further dry sobs..
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