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Judith pulled herself free from Elinor's circling arms and made for the door, pausing on the threshold. Bruce laid down his cracker with a grin. "No, you don't, young 'un," he said decisively. "I'm not going to turn my choicest possession into a puzzle department. I'm going to spring it myself, right now." In the veranda all was cool and restful and pleasingly silent. Isabella, in her white dress, looked beautiful and pensive; while Dido, in a reddish-hued robe, with a crimson 'kerchief twisted round her stately head, gleamed in the semi-gloom like some gorgeous tropical bird astray in our northern climes. Both mistress and maid were silent..
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Conrad
Elinor's soft laugh rippled out. "It's clear that you haven't tried to do it, or you'd see how easy it is to make caricatures instead of portraits," she said. "I didn't think they were so very bad." They had the table arranged in gala array, and the cocoa steaming in its receptacle, before Elinor and Margaret Howes joined them. "Indeed you did no such thing," retorted Etwald, coolly. "My story is quite different to that of Dido." "She was hidden under the bed, sir.".
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