” Part 9 She was sitting brooding over her fire about ten o’clock that night when a sealed and registered envelope was brought up to her. Again silence. She was as lovely in the spirit as in the flesh. It’s all very fine and all that, Vee, this freedom, but it isn’t going to work. Wood, popping her head through the window. I want to do without that for a time. And then, “They seem changed. Fool that I was to part with my lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. Happy Thanksgiving. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey.
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