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Disregarding the question, Billy continued: "The tracks led us a long ways, I kin tell you. We got up into the Scroggie bush at last an' then the rain come." Croaker paused for a moment in the edge of the grove to look back at Billy. The bird was plainly excited; his wings were spread, his neck feathers erect, and his raucous voice was scattering nesting birds from the evergreens in flocks. "I am thankful to hear you speak of dancing. If ever your clothes should become rags and flutter to the measures of your feet, your beauty will still make them a finer garment, at least in my sight, than the apparel of royalty in state. But you shall not want for clothes," he said, speaking in his gentlest voice, which, as he held command over fine vocal powers that rendered him at the piano, or at any other instrument, a sweet and engaging and manly singer, would have been found soothing by any ear that had not Lucy Acton's to hear with. "Your dress will last you till our arrival, and then you shall have plenty; whatever your choice selects you may already call your own.".
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Conrad
"I can see a good bit, your honour." "Yes, yes," spoke Mr. Johnston, impatiently. "No doubt I shall get to know Mr. Ringold very well. Now, sir, concerning your other neighbors?" Mr. Johnston held a dripping yolk of egg poised, peering from beneath his brows at his host. "Ay, your honour," answered the fellow with a grin decidedly above a clown's intelligence. "If you had somethin' sweet an' soothin' to give him," Billy suggested. "Pine syrup, er hoarhound, er somethin' like that, now—".
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