\" \"No, but can you carry my lunch bag? Where is yours?\" Michelle asked. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. They sat down, McClintock reaching for a lump of sugar which he began munching. The next moment, he was felled to the ground by Jonathan Wild, who sprang into the room, followed by Abraham bearing the link. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws.
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