"Me singing!" quavered old John, with a voice of amazement. "Why, I ha'nt sung this twenty year past."
dear.lottery, Mr Greyquill entered the room by two paces, and placing his hand upon the spot where he supposed his heart to lie, made three separate bows to the company, each of the "Your most humble and obedient servant" school; it was an expression of ceremony which for mingled respect and senility should have pleased, as it no doubt did please, Miss Acton.
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dear.lottery
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dear.lottery "Teacher," he said. "She's gotta be told about this. You know how she always hoped——".
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