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Lindsay that Miss Myrtle is goin' to be, an' a big cake there'll be at the weddin' frosted all over, won't ye be plased with a slice o' that, Mr. Bridshaw?" With these reflections in her mind, Mistress Kitty delivered her message, not without a gleam of malicious intelligence in her look that stung Mr. Bradshaw sharply.
On his return, feeling in pretty good spirits, as the prospects looked favorable, he went to make a call at The Poplars. He asked first for Miss Hazard. "Bliss your soul, Mr. Bridshaw," answered Mistress Kitty Fagan, "she's been gahn nigh a wake. It's to the city, to the big school, they've sint her."
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