Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. “It’s the spring,” he said. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone.
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