They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. "We shall never be able to get you out unseen, Jack," whispered Poll Maggot. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. "Safe inside," replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; "we've run all the way. "Let me see him. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. " CHAPTER XI.
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