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“Yeh Mar, I’m comin’.” The young dancers in the hall found the change of music decidedly exhilarating, as an occasional whoop testified. Through the Stygian darkness of the loft loomed the figure of Mrs. Wopp, a white apron of huge dimensions indicating her presence. She made as though to descend the ladder. “I c’d eat a rhindoceros,” he confided to Clarence..