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The first act over, a troop of black-faced comedians occupied the stage. “Can’t I see the faywies some time, Betty?” asked St. Elmo. “You don’t want to see your mother now, do you, boy? No more do you feel like jabbering with Bess at our table. Come over to the hotel, and we’ll lunch together.”.
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Conrad
Billy hurried away, and arrived at his home before the hack, bread and cream safe in spite of threatened dangers. “He was a real little cat Moses, wasn’t he? And you—you must be Pharaoh’s son instead of daughter.” The child laughed and clapped her hands. He went on, a little cautiously now, and shortly came in view of the “Ha’nt,” a sinister though imposing house, built of cut stone, close against the face of the most picturesque mountain of the range, bounding Vina Valley. The windows were curtained with cobwebs and dust. For years the wide front door had been nailed up with the same sun-bleached boards; and “Keep out!” spoke from every gray splinter. “How is your Ada since she had the jaundice, Mrs. Stolway?” inquired Airs. Bliggins..
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