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“He must have gone to Clarence in the barn,” concluded Maria, setting off at a run. The Wopp parlor was seldom entered, except on very special occasions or when Mrs. Wopp with formality and no undue haste dusted the furniture. The room had an air of solemnity and gloom, absent in the cheerful dining-room where the family usually sat. A homemade rag carpet covered the floor. Six slippery, horsehair chairs, one of them a rocker, and a horsehair couch, which did not invite confidence, were ranged stiffly around the sides of the room. In one corner was an ancient organ, wheezy and querulous with neglect, and in another stood a lofty what-not, on whose numerous shelves were deposited the family treasures. Here, was a woolly lamb at one time beloved of Moses; there his tin savings bank. Stiffly upright stood Betty’s wax doll Hannah, seldom played with and then only for a few minutes at a time. Mrs. Wopp was represented by a few shell boxes and a match box of china flanked by a sleek china cat. “Take care ole boy, you’ll trip on yer lip in another minute.”.
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Conrad
“Perhaps this is Nancy’s way of playing,” he thought. “You don’t like Sir Thomas because he’s a little indolent.” “Can he mean ‘prodigy,’ do you think, May Nell?” Edith’s eyes were mischievous. CHAPTER XVI THE BRIDGE TO SAFETY.
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