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Now a steamboat was on hand. At odd times for weeks, Billy, Harold, and one or two other boys, under secrecy of lock and key, had been slowly bringing to completion a wonderful structure. “At my brother’s Mrs. Wopp. He had just acquired it, so of course little proficiency was yet attained.” Artful Bess! Billy had treated it all as a huge joke; but now May Nell’s depression, the unfamiliar sound of his right name, the dim room with its shadows and half-suffocating odors,—all conspired to send a sober Billy into the circle of lurid light that came from the two lamps gleaming on either side of dark Bess like angry eyes..
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Conrad
Billy hesitated a minute. The dim room, the wicked-looking red lights, Bess so stern and mysterious,—this might frighten the little girl. He ought to wait. Billy heard her, though. “Come on, sister, mamma, too, and see the fun,” he called, not unwillingly, for he was a bit proud of their work now that it was out in the light of day. He had reason; it was really an imposing craft for boys to build from scraps. It was May Nell who first broke the silence. She had been thinking. “It isn’t so very bad to have to work, is it? Your mama looks happier than my mama does. She said she’d rather wear calico and work ever so hard, and have papa at home, than be the richest, richest without him. She cries a lot—my mama does. And now—she’s crying—for me.” The last word was a sob. “Was it dark for Joner inside the whale?” asked Pete Stolway, who noted his father viewing him through the gaping curtain and wished to appear in earnest conversation with his instructor..
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