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Judith was equal to the occasion, as usual. Judith looked wise. "I know how she feels," she declared, sagely. "I get awfully excited when I write something good. Why, sometimes I cry, I'm so happy about it, and I jump up and down, too, all by myself." "We don't have to petrify, do we?" she said, with a nervous ripple. "Griffin may keep us sitting here for hours——".
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Conrad
"You'll know everything to-morrow.' "How could she?" wondered Patricia, feeling awed by this devotion to art. "Just a case of permanent glooms, if you ask me," replied Griffin airily. "She loves melancholy, though she is an awfully good sort, too. She gets on my nerves, though, she's so brittle." "That describes her to a T, doesn't it, Howes?" grinned the imperturbable Griffin. "That's the way we find her—so sweet that she is sickening, eh?".
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