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“Billy! My—boy!” Mrs. Bennett bent over him; and he felt a tear where her cheek touched his. “Billy, you’re a wise guy. This beats Maskey’s,” Harold declared. “Mamma, Pretty’s finishing the lawn for me; can’t I rub the floors right now? The Gang’s coming and we want to do a lot to-day.”.
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Conrad
Rational people laughed at these stories, declared them the fancies of brains fuddled by too long a stay at the saloons in town. But Billy was not so easily satisfied. He wished to see for himself those shadowy forms; to prove to the small, scared children that, contrary to general belief, the brothers sometimes had guests. And he had a queer feeling that some way the house would have a place in his life. He admired its gloomy grandeur; planned the additions he would make if it were his own, and the gardens, the hedges of roses, and banks of fragrant smilax, that should grow there. “Our house isn’t big enough.” “A cat tablecloth!” the little girl laughed. “Billy, my little, little boy!” She lifted the tousled head and pressed her cheek close against his..
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