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Crosswaithe, from Sharon, arrived first. Robin saw masses of velvet and plumes and a sharp, wizened face somewhere in the midst of it all. She forgot Mr. Tubbs' careful teaching, said "I'm pleased to know you," instead, and held out her hand to the tall, thin, mannishly dressed young woman behind Mrs. Crosswaithe, who, though Robin did not know it, was Mrs. Crosswaithe's daughter.
That old Mis' Crosswaithe from Sharon'll be over here the first of any, peeking around and she ain't going to see how things are going to sixes and sevens. No one else ain't either or my name ain't Hannah Budge. It ain't." And Budge squared her shoulders as a challenge to an inquisitive world. Harkness, while he anxiously watched the weather, grew loquacious over the old times.
"This house has known great parties, missy," he told Robin. "The best lydies from miles 'round coming in their carriages. The Crosswaithes, from Sharon, before old Mr. Crosswaithe died. And the Cullens and the Grangers she as was the daughter of a gov'nor. The Manor was the finest place in the county and things were done right here and as gay as could be."
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