“I wonder!” said Miss Stanley. pglaf. "Nothing!" echoed the other, scornfully. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. You get one, you get them all. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. She never knew what became of her farmer after that.
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