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She nodded to Danny, who said: "All right, whoever's counted out will be the audience. You count out, Nora." Starting with Danny and pointing to a child in rotation with each word, Nora chanted and counted: "'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. All good children go to heaven. O-u-t spells out." Her finger was pointing at Jerry. "Jerry's out!" cried Celia Jane, skipping about.
I'm plumb chuck-full o' y'r goin's-on! I'm stuffed with y'r fool pre-form-ances! I'm fed up t' the neck with 'em! and sick o' 'em! and right here, and now, you and me is a-goin' t' have this business O-U-T!" "He knows how t' spell it," remarked Barber, facetiously. "Heaven strengthen the arm o' ye!" cried the Father.
See it spells: 'L-O-O-K O-U-T'" she figured it out in the sand. "There, would you ever think one would be so daring?" They all paused to read the letters so crudely forked in the wet sand. "Yes," insisted Julia. "There's 'bug. Guess they didn't dare write the word 'fire'." A lone figure on a lone bench up near the boardwalk attracted their attention at the same moment.
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