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Egg ate another chocolate wafer and resumed: "This here's my business and your papa's and Dammy's. I've got it in my head that that movie weekly picture they had of Buttercup Four with her price wrote out must have been shown in San Antonio. And you'll recollect that your papa and me stood alongside her while that fresh cameraman took the picture.
"That's Dammy's girl, Papa. Go on, Sam. What did Edie say?" "Well," said the driver, "she liked seein' the kid. She cried, anyhow." Mrs. Egg was charmed by the girl's good sense. The moon looked like a quartered orange over the orchard. She sighed, "Well, he'll be home Wednesday night, anyhow. Edie ain't old enough to get married yet. Hey, what's the house all lit up for?
My own mamma busted her eyesight and got heart trouble for fifteen mortal years until your papa married me and gave her a home for her old age, and never a whimper out of her, neither. She's where she can't tell me what she thinks of him and I dunno what to think. But I'll do my own thinkin' until Dammy and your papa gets back and tell me what they think. This is your papa's place and Dammy's.
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