For a time all went well, but soon Jerry said in a whisper—somehow the dark made him whisper rather than speak aloud—“I can’t touch the roof any more, can you?”,
They passed lightly on, for their steps ran in whispering echoes through the gallery, and often did Julia cast a fearful glance around.,
“What’s the matter with your life?” he asked quickly. “I’d want nothing better. To be with the Reclamation Service and to have Mr. Whitney for a boss seems pretty good to me!”.
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