You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. Sheppard," rejoined Winifred kindly. “Guineas, of course,” Mr. " "You will call for it before six months are passed," rejoined Jack, sternly. .
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