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After the man had gone, Patricia, who had flushed, suddenly giggled. "Did you see him looking at us, Frad?" she asked, in an undertone. "He thought he'd caught us holding hands, like regular grown-up spoons!" Here she waited in the shadow of the fluttering violet arc light, with her eyes fastened to the silent, insensible windows. Ten minutes that seemed ten eternities went lagging by. Tears of disappointment rose to Patricia's eyes and she shivered as the gusts of west wind flung the drops from the saturated trees in a silver shower across the darkened panes. "Why?".
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"Going right up on Monday," said Miss Jinny, taking off her things. "The two older girls go back to college, but the rest of the family go right home and stay there." "I see that you are a feather-headed kitten," said Elinor, not at all mollified. "Miss Jinny will do very well as she is without your romantic nonsense to mortify her. I I'm ashamed of you, indeed I am, Patricia. I thought you had more delicacy." "Now you're safe and sound, with no bones broken," said Griffin, as Patricia sank down on the roomy couch. "You're a nice one, you are, scaring us into a blue fit just when we were about to blister our paws with applause for the heroine of the day." Then, suddenly as it had come, the storm passed, trailing dark, yellow-gray, ragged clouds in its wake. The light came back and the awed girls at the little window saw below them in the emerald meadows, wide ugly yellow splotches that grew as they looked, meeting other growing patches of swirling yellow water from the lanes and roads. Trees showed fresh wounds and masses of broken branches clotted the discolored waters of the brook. Birds called excitedly and flew exultantly about in the limpid air. The sun flung gay greens and golds. The storm was past..
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