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"A doctor's brougham?" "What in the world made you so disagreeable?" she demanded of the unconcerned Judith. "Any blind bat could see that you wanted to be nasty, in spite of your namby-pamby airs." "The fact is David has not been quite himself since this trouble about Isabella," he said, gravely, "and he thinks it best to go away for a time. You know how he tortures himself over trifles.".
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Naskowski, on his way to the modeling room, paused to answer Patricia's question. "Don't you think it's the house, too?" she asked critically. "Some houses seem to be so alive and to belong to some people. Greycroft just fitted Aunt Louise, and when she left, it was lonesome till it found someone who liked the same things she did, and then it opened its eyes and waked up again. I don't believe it would be itself with Mrs. Hand in it, or even with the Halls, though they are so sweet and fine-mannered." "No? And yet it is easy enough. If those who slew Mr. Alymer wanted his body, they could have stolen it on the high road, where they struck him down. It was mere foolishness to venture liberty and life in a raid upon the house." "Oh, Bruce, the sycamore you painted is gone!" called Patricia, not turning. "Come and see!".
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