” Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. Once before—but that had been different. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. "I will set about it instantly.
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