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"Time, as he passes us, has a dove's wing,,Mr Lawrence led the way below.,Mother went about, uncovering mirrors and furniture until the room which was called the white salon showed all white and yellow, with its gilding and its silken damask cushions gleaming in the strong September sunlight.,There were a few feeble protests, but Mrs. Eitel bore them down, and the students trooped off upstairs to their lockers and the dressing room, well pleased to escape the prosaic end to their fun.,He sat down, looking very weary.,"Remarkable," murmured Mr. Johnston. "Remarkable, indeed!","Why did she not come in?" asked Jen, coldly, for he did not feel very amiably disposed toward the widow.,"Oh," said the Raven, "you do not believe me. Come outside, come outside, and I will make you believe.","No, no; I think not. Come here, Geoffrey; do. It is the queerest thing,—like a riddle. See!","On a golden, Indian summer day like this," she finished and closed her eyes as his arms went about her.,All heads bowed as the compliant master of the house, with thin nervous hands outspread and in a voice quavering with piety, responded to this request. Moses of the freckled face and pale blue eyes, kept one eye open as grace was being said, in order to scan the bounteous display on the table. Furtively he chose the largest bun on the plate that was placed close to Betty, his little foster-sister. To annex the most corpulent pickle would require some slight manœuvring, but he felt sure it could be managed.,"Put it on you," says Geoffrey..