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“I’m going to work as soon ’s school’s out; it’s for you and May Nell, too, you know.” “Thank you Mr. Newman, you’re a prince.” CHAPTER X SIR THOMAS KATZENSTEIN.
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Conrad
Edith worked very hard. She called her operetta “The Triumph of Flora.” The words were her own, written hurriedly and set to familiar though classic airs. Yet many of the daintiest, most tripping melodies she wrote herself. The sorrows of humanity had winged her brain and dipped her pen in harmonies, that she might assuage them. But a familiar sound came to his ear, and he turned to see the Doctor’s splendid bays pounding down the street, pulling the buggy almost by the taut reins. Billy followed quickly and was soon closeted with the man, who listened, first with a smile, afterward with grave attention. “Now, Mose, fer the elbow. Stiddy! Don’t shove! Don’t pull! Hole her stiddy!” The work went on, each length at the first possible opportunity resuming its state of strict neutrality and refusing to be drawn into negotiations..
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