They had been informally introduced during floor hockey, when Katy had sent a puck flying into Lucy’s face. Then, there's Mr. Sheppard, horror-stricken. —There, Mr. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. Having worked thus for another quarter of an hour without being sensible of fatigue, though he was half stifled by the clouds of dust which his exertions raised, he had made a hole about three feet wide, and six high, and uncovered the iron bar.
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