I told her it was the end. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. You can give up thinking and leave all the brain work to her. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway.
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