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"Let's phone to her and tell her that we all hope Geraldine will soon be well," she said, looking at Elinor with loving confidence. "Aren't the bags perfect ducks?" she laughed, handling the gauzy bundles with dexterous fingers. "And those verses are too cute for words. What a time we all had over them! Ju's are the best, though she mustn't know it; funny without being personal. It was terribly hard to get such a mob, too. How many are there altogether, Norn?" "You dare not. Why?".
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"What was it like?" eagerly demanded Patricia. "It doesn't matter now, you know, if you tell. We won't tell, and it's too late, anyway, to make any difference." "Well, my plot has failed, and now I am departing to look anew for a rich wife. Also to find Dido, and get back the Voodoo stone, of which she robbed me. You will never meet me again, and I dare say you won't be sorry to see the back of me. And now, my dear major, I fancy I have told you all, and you know the meaning of the many mysteries which have puzzled you for so long. There remains only to say adieu, and remain your evil genius (now resigned), Max Etwald." "Paralysis?" suggested David, in a jesting manner, but with some seriousness. "Isn't it jolly—to be here in a real Academy of Fine Arts, just like all the famous artists when they were young and unknown? Doesn't it make you feel all excited and quivery, Norn?" asked Patricia, as she fitted her key into the narrow gray locker with an air of huge enjoyment. "I don't see how you can look so cool. You are as calm and refrigerated as a piece of the North Pole.".
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