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"Don't be a muff," said Patricia briskly. "It's twice as good, don't you see, coming out this way? Here are eight people surprised all in a bunch, instead of merely Elinor and poor me. You've sprung it in the very nick of time, Infant." "But you know Mrs. Carson always wanted him to take his own name if he ever found it," said Elinor, closing her locker and dropping the key into her bag. "African witchcraft! Obi! Fetish worship! The adoration of the bad spirit who catches mortals by the hair. Any one of these things explains the meaning of the term.".
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The words died on her tongue, as Elinor suddenly emerged from the portrait class door, her face radiant and with an exclamation of quick pleasure at the sight of them. I weigh one hundred and sixty pounds, set down in black and white, and it is a tragedy! I don't believe that man at the weighing machine is so very reliable in his weights, though he had a very pleasant smile while he was weighing me. Still, I had better get some scales of my own, smiles are so deceptive. "I am neither for nor against," replied Jen, enigmatically. "As I said before, let the girl marry who she loves best." "Literary grandmother!" exclaimed Patricia scornfully. "She's a conceited chicken that thinks she's a nightingale because she can peep louder than some. Wait till you've had some of your stuff printed, Judy, before you boast. Anyone can scribble——".
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