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"What's Bruce doing here?" asked Patricia, as they resigned themselves to the inevitable and prepared to await the event. On the day after the major's dinner party, Isabella was sitting in the veranda with a book open on her lap and Dido standing gravely near her. Mrs. Dallas, in the cool depths of the drawing-room, was indulging in an after-luncheon siesta. The sunlight poured itself over the velvet lawns, drew forth the perfumes from the flower-beds, and made the earth languorous with heat. "Well, I declare, if you ain't just the same," said Miss Jinny, as Patricia piloted her through the crowds to the cab-stand..
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"David's was different also." Elinor smiled assent, and Miss Jinny went on. "Catalepsy?" guessed Major Jen, giving his mustache a nervous twist. Mrs. Dallas appeared to be horrified by the recital. Every now and then she cast a look of terror at Dido, while passing her handkerchief over her white lips. When the major concluded she could only shake her head and stammer a few words..
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