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Mrs. Wopp was an incurable optimist, although the citadel of her optimism was being assailed. Turning her wrathful gaze from Moses, her eye lighted on the soiled pink hat and antimacassar still worn by Job. She burst into a hearty laugh and turned to Betty. “Have more toast Glory,” said Moses suddenly wakened. Unwrapping his leg from the rung of the chair, he reached across the table. “Moses, yer as useless as the hole in a doughnut; here quick gimme yer handkerchief till I mop up yer Par.”.
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Billy went on with his rubbing, and his next words were comically resigned. “Besides, I suppose I’ll have to get married some day; of course she’ll be a new woman; might as well learn housework now.” Turning to the right he entered a short dark corridor and noticed at the end of the passageway a brass knob gleaming. With renewed hope he approached the shining mark and extended his hand to open the door. How did he know her name, she wondered, yet answered more bravely than she felt. “Yes, sir.” She thought it best to be as polite as possible. “I’m alone now, but the boys are expected every minute.” She would say “boys” even if Clarence didn’t come; it sounded more protecting. “Poor little chaps! They’ve been talking circus for a month.”.
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