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“Don’t, mother! Mother, don’t come in here! Don’t come in the same room with me,—I’m not fit for— O mother, I’ve hurt Jimmy for life!” On such visits Mrs. Wopp enjoyed herself hugely. Her volubility was overpowering; as Mrs. Mifsud had been known to remark, “Not even a comma was there to clutch at to make good ones escape.” The faster her needle flew the faster raced her tongue. In view of the impending visit Mrs. Mifsud had surreptitiously stuffed one ear with cotton batting so that in the event of an extremely sanguinary onslaught, so to speak, at least one rampart of defence could be instantaneously thrown up. Ebenezer Wopp unlike his wife was expecting nothing but an afternoon of self-effacement though prepared to secretly admire to the full Mrs. Wopp’s sprightly conversation. “This is Evelyn Dorr, and Vilette, her sister,” Mrs. Bennett was saying..
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Conrad
Bess’s coming launched the procession. People in the vicinity who had not before known of the presence of a circus, knew it now. Everybody talked at once, and every living thing made its own kind of a noise. Billy as Master of Ceremonies had his hands full, his voice full too, one might say. As he reached for his cap a door opposite the one through which he had passed opened, and the grey head of the sexton appeared. “Moses, I hear yer Par comin’ with the hay,” announced Mrs. Wopp, suddenly. “You’ll hev to go help him with it.” They tied the horses, and once hidden from the road, shed every superfluous garment. Billy was quite ashamed of the chill he could not help when he saw the handcuffs, pistols, and cartridges disposed neatly and conveniently about the Sheriff’s waist. They looked so vicious, “disrespectable.”.
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