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Jean hid a queer little smile that she could not repress. He smiled wanly, and her heart ached for him; but she knew sympathy was unsafe just then. “If you could see that comical, crooked eye of yours blinking at me, like a chicken asking your intentions, you’d laugh, Billy.” “But you haven’t told us what hurries you so,” Jean called, while Billy was already sprinting away. “The bulliest time yet!” shouted Charley from the street..