Simon Moonan had nice clothes and one night he had shown him a ball of creamy sweets that the fellows of the football fifteen had rolled down to him along the carpet in the middle of the refectory when he was at the door. To bear even the sting of an insect for all eternity would be a dreadful torment. Then it was--with the very act of its announcing itself-- that her identity flared up in a change of posture. --The little word seemed to have turned a rapier point of his sensitiveness against this courteous and vigilant foe.
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