Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. His tone was kind and sympathetic. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation. You will begin to see it all opening out. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week. The future? He dared not speculate upon that. "His shin may need rubbing. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue.
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