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“Ah Miss Gordon, I see you love the music too,” he murmured in her ear. “Naw Nosey,” he retorted, “there ain’t no bun to break in two, the dorg is outside the bun already.” The frenzied cries of the child were distinctly audible in the kitchen where sat Mrs. Mifsud and Mrs. Wopp, the latter busily engaged in mending a pile of socks. Both ladies sprang to their feet and hurried through the open door towards the garden, Mrs. Wopp still wearing a half-darned sock on her left hand and scattering others as she ran. They were followed by Betty, who had been filling her watering-can from the rain-barrel and had also heard the cries of the frightened child..
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either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
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Conrad
“Yes, sister says he’s rare, Persian or something; but I guess he’s only a plain cat. He’s a lazy thing.” “There ’re deer up there, all right; but of course we can’t get ’em. We’ll have to catch a jack rabbit beforehand and let him loose.” St. Elmo cast about in his mind for some plausible explanation of his recent panic. It would never do to inform the world that he had been afraid of a mere turkey. “Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.”.
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