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Bob was looking into the glowing coals, thinking over the events of the day, which, since they had turned out safely, were now to be treasured as great adventures. Jerry for his part was lying looking up at the narrow strip of star-lit sky showing between the edges of the canyon’s top. Suddenly he rolled over and put his hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Cut it out,” stammered Bob, confused. “I didn’t do anything.” There was once a merchant, who was very, very rich. He had six children, three boys and three girls, and as he was a man of good sense, he spared no expense in order that they might be well educated, and gave them masters of every kind. His daughters were all beautiful, but his youngest one was especially admired, and from the time she was a small child, had been only known and spoken of as "Beauty." The name remained with her as she grew older, which gave rise to a great deal of jealousy on the part of her sisters. The young girl was not only more beautiful than they were, but also kinder and more amiable. The elder daughters gave themselves great airs, for they were overweeningly proud of being so rich, and would not condescend to receive visits from the daughters of other merchants, as they only cared for the society of people in high position. Not a day passed that they did not go to a ball, or a theatre, or for a drive or walk in a fashionable part of the town, and they made fun of their sister, who spent a great part of her time in study. The girls received many offers of marriage from well-to-do merchants, as they were known to be rich, but the two elder ones replied, that they did not intend to marry anyone, unless a duke or an earl could be found for a husband..
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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New to Win 101 Teen Patti? Take advantage of our special offer:I tried logging in using my phone number and I
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Conrad
“Oh, yes. You may know we were wet, sopping wet. We were almost upset in the sea, you understand; we were nearly drowned.” The clock struck twelve, when she arose to depart. Having embraced her faithful friend with tears of mingled grief and anxiety, she took a lamp in her hand, and with cautious, fearful steps, descended through the long winding passages to a private door, which opened into the church of the monastery. The church was gloomy and desolate; and the feeble rays of the lamp she bore, gave only light enough to discover its chilling grandeur. As she passed silently along the aisles, she cast a look of anxious examination around—but Ferdinand was no where to be seen. She paused in timid hesitation, fearful to penetrate the gloomy obscurity which lay before her, yet dreading to return. Lurks at the gate: “Yes, that’s wet,” admitted Johnny Blossom..
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