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Under the brim of this his face wore an expression of hesitating inquiry as if he were not sure of his reception. "Why, hello!" said Mark, dropping his book in surprise; "it's Fong!" The old man, his hand on the doorknob, spoke with apologetic gentleness. "I want see you, Mist Bullage you no mind if I come in? I want see you and talk storlies with you."
I take care Miss Lolly and Miss Clist I look out. You all 'ight, you come." He threw open the door with a flourish and called in loud, glad tones, "Miss Lolly, Miss Clist, one velly good fliend come Mist Bullage." At the end of the long room Mark was aware of a small group whence issued a murmur of talk.
As Lorry passed through the pantry door he called after her, amiable but determined, "All samey Mist Bullage no come I won't make bird nest ice cleam with pink eggs." No one but Fong bothered about Mr. Burrage's absence.
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