She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. 6. " "I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs. I daresay that is one of the names of the nuns in your convent. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. We have to get them to let us in for the profits of their business, and in return we ask them to—dinner.
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