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"Shouldn't think she'd be strong enough for housework," said Patricia, puckering her brow. "Mrs. Hand wants a 'lady houseworker,' but I don't believe she'd have an ex-model. She's so awfully particular, you know." Patricia's stand, with its heavy curved iron head-piece and some lengths of copper and lead wire, was waiting for her in the clay room, and together they wheeled it into the modeling room, where the gloomy Miss Green scanned them with kind but somber eyes, plainly regarding their entrance as an interruption. "Dido! Dido!" remonstrated Mrs. Dallas, shaking the woman. "Rise; stop.".
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"There was; but it was all dried up." "All the same, she sees that Kendall Major is about to snatch the laurel wreath from all our heads, and she doesn't want to do without any of her ornaments." "No; but I fancy her reason is." There was a disconcerting silence, while Judith breathed hard and kept her eyes glued on Miss Green..
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