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Nothing loth to keep the distance between himself and Nell at a minimum, Howard Eliot entered with zest into the boy’s plans. In answer to his wife’s reproof, Mr. Wopp almost roared, “Where’s the hammer? Gone hide an’ hair it is, like everythink else.” “Let me go, please!” he pleaded. “There’s a little girl, our refugee, over there, fainted, I think, perhaps—dead.”.
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Conrad
“Now Moses,” announced his mother, “Jist for a change an’ rest like, turn this here separator.” Mrs. Wopp rose from her chair and seating herself on the sofa beside her husband took his thin hand in her substantial one, squeezing it openly. “Moses! Betty! Time fer school!” called Mrs. Wopp. Betty, satisfied that after Moses’ frenzied ministrations she was quite presentable, hastened into the house. Moses fled into the yard where he became very active splitting wood, his guilty conscience adding efficiency to his arm. Billy laughed. “Mixed again, mamma. This is Vilette,” he drew one bashful little girl nearer the stranger, “and this is Evelyn, Echo, we call her.”.
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