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Of
all the mornings to be running behind, Giles
dashed about his rooms in a frantic search for his stick. His
usual cane leaned temptingly against the mantle and he passed it
twice in his fruitless hunt for the other. Oh, he knew he could
simply grab what was available and be out the door in a moment, but
the walking stick he sought had
Published on January 01, 2014 20:00