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"Pooh, I'm not a bit dangerous and you know it, Bruce Haydon," she said with returning gayety. "I'm the family grub, and Judy and Elinor are the splendid butterflies." She paused with a merry gurgle. "I'm going to raise chickens for these two glittering geniuses. Greycroft shall be my field of conquest and the white plume that leads to victory will be an Orpington. Lead on!" "That? Oh, Carol Lawton wrote that for us before she left. She was a corker, I can tell you." A shade flitted over Griffin's face as she settled herself more firmly on the board. "She died last fall, and we've sung that song ever since. Ready now! Let her go!" Mrs. Dallas considered..

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I don't know just how long I sat by the open window all by myself, bathed in a perfect flood of moonlight and loneliness. It was not a bit of comfort to hear Aunt Adeline snoring away in her room upstairs. It takes the greatest congeniality to make a person's snoring a pleasure to anybody, and Aunt Adeline and I are not that way. Patricia shut her door with a snap and turned to her sister with a glowing face, sweeping her stray tendrils back with an eager gesture. Patricia thought Doris Leighton looked pale as she stood up on the model stand to read the nonsense verse that was on her candy bag, but her loveliness wrought the same spell on the others as it always had, and they listened to her silvery voice in appreciative silence, and applauded her warmly at the end. Laurence Jen was a retired major, a bachelor, and the proprietor of a small estate at Hurstleigh, in Surrey. On leaving the service, he decided--not unwisely--that it was better to be a Triton in the country than a minnow in town; and acting upon this theory he purchased "Ashantee" from a ruined squire. Formerly the place had been called Sarbylands, after its original owners; but Jen had changed the name, in honor of the one campaign in which he had participated..