CHAPTER VI. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. “You say you want a vote,” said Mr. She had even confided to him how lonely it was in the island. " "You had better write them for me, Mr. \" Michelle met her at her locker, right on schedule, carrying a backpack so overstuffed it was its own conversation piece. Promise me one thing before I leave you. I’ll walk over there once I change clothes. Come and help me pack.
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