And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. ” Lucy blinked from the winter sunlight and reached behind herself to yank at her hood. . “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. ” She turned abruptly at right angles to the path they followed. "Red apples and snow!" he repeated. Spurling, you're a witness to the bet.
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