“It’s Kitty’s idea,” said one, “we are to go in the vans. I’m sick of this town and I can’t wait to get out. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. "Ay.
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