“You must come home to him at once,” said Miss Stanley. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked frenetically from class to class. Others pulled hats over their noses, cowered in their seats, and feigned that all was right with the world. You know I call that positively wicked. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. She regarded the young man coldly.
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