‘I try to be. Or perhaps my father once. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park. My will never faltered. And were you to load me with thrice the weight of iron you have ordered you should not prevent my escaping a third time. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. Manning regarded her thoughtfully for a moment and stroked his mustache.
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