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You do not understand, and you would like to. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. "Oh, Rollo, there are so many things I don't know! But you love me, don't you?" Rollo wagged his stump violently and tried to lick her face. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood. .
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