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"Oh, I don't know," replied Patricia easily. "She's kind, anyway. I think if she were thin, people wouldn't find her half bad. Fat people never seem quite as human as the rest of us." However, if I should undertake to be all the things Judge Wade said in that letter he wanted me to be to him, I should soon be skin and bones from mental and physical exercise. Still, he does live in Hillsboro, and I won't let myself know how my heart aches at the thought of leaving my home—and other things. It's up in my throat, and I seem always to be swallowing it, the last few days. THE SECOND LETTER OF DR. ETWALD..
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Patricia rubbed the end of her nose with the scissors. "There are the Haldens and the Berkleys and Tattans," she mused. "They're all supplied. Perhaps someone will leave and then she can get their place. Maybe Hannah Ann will have her help sometimes,—we can't afford to have anyone regularly, you know." Elinor thanked her with pretty gratitude. "Say who you think killed Maurice." "Do you really want to go?" asked Patricia, beaming. "The modeling room's open, and you can always see the antique.".
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