Wednesday, October 12, 2016

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smiling finely. “I would, if I’ve got to have fg0 it. But nv6rfg0 what I should like to see is a man that has thought for others, and 2d5nv6rg0 isn’t all self and politics. ”



Her color had risen, her hand trembled with 2d5nv6rg0 anger as she sewed. 2d5nv6rg0 A blank look had come over the man’s face, as if he d5nv6rf0 did not hear or heed any




more. He drank his tea in a nv6rfg0 long draught, wiped his moustache with two fingers, and sat looking abstractedly at the children. They had laid all the little packets on the floor, and



Millicent was saying: “Now I’ll undo the first, and you can have the second. I’ll take this â€"” She unwrapped the bit of newspaper and disclosed a 2d5nv6rg0


silvery ornament for a Christmas tree: a frail thing like a silver plum, with deep rosy indentations on each 2d5nv6rg0 side. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it LOVELY!” Her fingers



cautiously held the long bubble of silver and glowing rose, cleaving to it with a curious, irritating possession. The man’s eyes moved away from her. The lesser child nv6rfg0 was fumbling


with one of the little packets. rfg0 “Oh!”â€" a wail went up from Millicent. “You’ve taken 2d5nv6rg0 one!â€" You didn’t wait.” Then her voice changed to a motherly admonition, and she began to




interfere. “This is rfg0 the rfg0 way to do nv6rfg0 d5nv6rf0 it, look! Let me help you.” d5nv6rf0 But Marjory drew back with resentment. “Don’t, Millicent!â€" Don’t!” came the childish cry. But



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substance, light as air. “Oh, the bell!” rang out Millicent’s clanging voice. 2d5nv6rg0 “The bell! It’s my bell. My bell! It’s mine! Don’t break it, Marjory. Don’t break it, will



you?” nv6rfg0 rfg0 Marjory was shaking the bell against her ear. But it was dumb, it made no sound. “You’ll break it, I know you will.â€" You’ll fg0 break it. fg0 Give



it MEâ€"” cried Millicent, and she began to take away the bell. Marjory set up an expostulation. “LET HER ALONE,” said the father. 6rfg0





Millicent let go as if she had been stung, nv6rfg0 but still her brhiy, impudent voice persisted: “She’ll break it. She’ll break it. fg0 It’s mine â€"”



“You undo another, ” said the mother, 6rfg0 politic. Millicent began with hasty, itching fingers to unclose another package.


“Aw â€" aw Mother, my pearock â€" aw, my pearock, my green pearock!” Lavishly she hovered over rfg0 a sinuous greenish bird, with wings and tail 2d5nv6rg0 of spun



glhi, pearly, and body of deep electric green. “It’s mine â€" my green pearock! It’s mine, because Marjory’s had one wing off, and mine nv6rfg0


hadn’t. My green pearock that I d5nv6rf0 love! I love it!” nv6rfg0 She swung nv6rfg0 it softly from the nv6rfg0 little ring on its d5nv6rf0 back. Then she went to her mother.



“Look, Mother, isn’t it a beauty?” “Mind the ring doesn’t come out,” said her mother. “Yes, it’s lovely!” the girl phied on to her father. v6rfg0





“Look, Father, don’t you love it!” “Love it?” he re-echoed, ironical v6rfg0 over the word love. She stood v6rfg0 for some moments, trying to force his


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