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Patricia as she carried Judith off to the dressing room for her wraps, was moved to inquiry. "We don't have to petrify, do we?" she said, with a nervous ripple. "Griffin may keep us sitting here for hours——" Bruce pinched her cheek, with a tolerant laugh..
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Conrad
Hillsboro is a very peculiar little speck on the universe; even more peculiar than being like a hen. It is one of the oldest towns in the North, and the moss on it is so thick that it can't be scratched off except in spots. But when it does get stirred up to take an interest in anything, it certainly goes the pace. It hasn't had any real excitement for a long time, and I felt that it needed it. I rolled over and laughed into my pillow. Her languid Creole nature and lethargic habits were unsuited to brisk, practical England, and she hated the gray skies, the frequent absence of sunlight and the lack of rich and sensuous coloring. Often she threatened to return to Barbadoes, but she was too lazy to make the effort of again settling herself in life. With all her longings for the fairy islands of the West, it seemed as though she would end her days in gray and misty England. But she was out of place in this northern land, and so was Dido. "Catalepsy?" guessed Major Jen, giving his mustache a nervous twist. "You accused Mrs. Dallas of all these things five minutes ago," said David, ironically, "and now you think--".
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