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Judith as she kissed him was wrinkling her smooth brows at him. "But I thought you were going to bring Tom Hughes——" she began, hesitatingly. Slowly at last I lifted the blue muslin, twenty-three-inch waist shroud and let it slip over my head and fall slimly around me. I was fastening the buttons behind and was fumbling the next one into the buttonhole when I suddenly heard laughing excited voices coming up the side street that ran just under my west window. Something told me that Alfred had come by the five-down train instead of the six-up, and I fairly reeled to the window and peeped through the venetian blind. Patricia giggled. "You're in for it, Norn. You have to pony up for the head and the night life, too. I'm in luck to be in the mudpie department.".
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Patricia flung herself on the fur rug that lay before the empty fireplace. "No, not Dr. Etwald, but the person who stole the devil-stick." Patricia was about to speak, but there was a general stir and a voice cried, authoritatively: Hughes made a careful inventory of the delicate china and sparkling silver before he delivered himself..
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