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Maurice nodded. "They said thieves at the store." Forgotten, for the moment, was old Scroggie's ghost and the buried treasure in this new something which promised mystery and adventure. As evidence that Mr Lawrence was improving in general esteem, a brief conversation passed at Old Harbour House on the fourth evening following the day of the loss of the letter. Captain Acton had invited some friends to a rubber of whist. Sir William Lawrence was to be amongst the guests, but as he lived near he was always late, explaining that the fact of his living near excused him for taking plenty of time. Miss Lucy was lovely in black muslin spangled with stars as the hair is dusted with gold. "No doubt. She'd light up a wide area.".
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"He's gone," Maurice answered his chum's look. "Took to his heels when the lightnin' struck that elm. The shock knocked us both down. He was gone when I come to." "I took it 'cause I thought it was bad fer him. You see, Ma, Anse suffers turrible from indigestion," Billy explained. "'Course maybe you don't notice it same as I do, 'cause you don't sleep in the same room with him. But Ma, he groans an' gasps all night—an' he has the most awful dreams—now don't you Anse?" he asked, turning to his brother. "Well then, I claim he's a company horse an' you an' me an' Maurice is that company. Now, that's settled, let me tell you what Maurice and me was talkin' about when you met us." "I am sorry you are not better than middling," she said..
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