Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. ‘Well, I thought as how someone in the house in Paddington might see me hanging about outside like. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. I went off to round up his wife. "After all, he is my father, Hoddy; and I cursed him.
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