What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. He's down in Patagonia somewhere. Lucy entered and Mike followed. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. "On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked.
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