At this moment one of the pigeons—a small, pretty thing, bronze-tinged—flies to her, and, resting on her shoulder, makes a tender cooing sound, and picks at her cheek reproachfully, as though imploring more corn.
WildHeistCashout, Rodney, standing on the threshold at the end of the small hall, can hear distinctly all that passes.
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WildHeistCashout, Video
WildHeistCashout
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WildHeistCashout "It is nearly over," he gasps, painfully. "Say good-by to me. Do not quite forget me, not utterly. Give me some small place in your memory, though—so unworthy.".
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