[On Our Selection by Steele Rudd]@TWC D-Link book
On Our Selection

CHAPTER XXI
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Those inside, lying full-stretch beneath the table, instantly darted up and rushed out.

One of them carried off little Bill--who was standing at the table with his legs spread out and a pint of tea in his hand--as far as the door on its back, and there scraped him off and spilled tea over him.

Dad spoke.

He said, "Damn the dogs!" Then he rose and looked out the window.

We all rose--all except Joe.


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