"Rubbish, my boy. It has been hanging on the wall for years, and has never hurt anyone yet!",
"It sounds like wedding bells to me!" she cried, gayly. "You and I don't hear alike, Ju. It sounds like wedding bells, and commencement essays, and checks for stories, and—and—and——",
"I got my criticism! And he said the work was good! Now I can write to Bruce," and her voice rang with a thrilling note of joy that carried Patricia with her..
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