"O lud! what an exquisite box!" cried Edgeworth Bess. . She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. I’ve a dread of love dropping its petals, becoming mean and ugly. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. She looked at him mournfully. From McClintock's came an infernal tinkletinkle, tump-tump! There was no composing with such a sound hammering upon the ear.
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