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"If I thought that--. But," added Jen, breaking off, "how did you know that David was in London?" When Patricia came home from the library at half-past five, she was surprised to find Elinor stretched on the couch, with a thick comfortable drawn up to her chin, and her face gray and haggard. "My word!" breathed Patricia, stirred and chilled in spite of herself. "They're doing it brown this time!".
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Conrad
Elinor looked at them with a little quick sigh of excited envy. "I'm going to take her out with us day after tomorrow—she's not going back to the Academy—and I'm going to get work for her. There's where you can help. She's a good sewer, she says, though she'd rather live with someone and do housework." She met Billy toiling up the front step with a long piece of rusty iron gas-pipe, which took off an inch of paint as it bumped against the doorway. She bent down and kissed the back of his neck, which theft was almost more than I could stand and apparently more than Billy was prepared to accept. "Stuff!" protested Patricia stoutly. "You know you've been simply crazy to get here. Why spoil it all by squibbling? I think it's perfectly gorgeous. I'm wild to begin myself, and I'm about as green as any old shamrock. Besides, it's a mighty poor way to show your gratitude to Bruce for putting you right slap into the highest classes without slaving your life out for years, perhaps. I'll tell him——".
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