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Updated: June 23, 2025
"We've been disputing about it all the afternoon," added Mary Brooks breathlessly from the middle of the line. "You see we're all dressed alike in white muslin and blue sashes. Now Miss Raymond, don't I look lots younger than Dottie?"
But I'm going to sleep every night. I promised Dottie to go to bed not later than twelve, if I have to quit right in the middle of an idea, and I told her that I was coming out to see her every other evening and every Sunday. But here's the dope. I've got that missing factor in my theory got it while I was eating breakfast this afternoon."
One of these occasions was when, for the first time, she gathered her lap full of soft, faintly smelling cowslips. She sat and looked at them in lonely rapture. Oh for Susie and Dottie to help her to make them up into balls! Then she remembered that she really had been very tired of Susie and Dottie; it was odd she should want them directly she got away from them.
The Skylark was now days upon her way toward the sixth planet, Seaton gave the visiplates and the instrument board his customary careful scrutiny and rejoined the others. "Still talking about the human fish, Dottie Dimple?" he asked, as he stoked his villainous pipe. "Peculiar tribe of porpoises, but I'm strong for 'em.
It was Roche's embrocation that did her more good than anything. I told Moore that, and he got some. When Dottie got better the doctor said we ought to take her to the seaside, but that was out of the question, mother said." "Why?" asked Mrs Fotheringham. "Because it would have cost so much," answered Iris.
It can't be that, because her mother wouldn't direct a letter to the editor-in-chief of the 'Argus." "Hear that, Dottie," called Mary Brooks to Dorothy King, who was sitting on the divan below the Turkish lantern, talking busily with Mrs. Brooks. "There's a letter for your chief over on the zoology bulletin board. You'd better stop in and get it for her."
During the meal, Seaton was greatly surprised at hearing Dorothy carrying on a halting conversation, with one of the women standing behind her. "I knew that you were a language shark, Dottie, with five or six different ones to your credit, but I didn't suppose you could learn to talk this stuff in one day." "I can't," she replied, "but I've picked up a few words of it.
"Naughty Dottie!" said Iris earnestly, "to make such a noise. What's the matter?" Dottie could not speak, for she was using all her breath to scream with, but she held out an appealing dumpy arm, and pointed to the doll. "Why, that's Dottie's doll, Susie," said Iris, turning to the other little girl; "did you take it from her?"
Iris started up and rushed into the next room; she had left her two little sisters there happily at play, but she now found a very different state of things. Dottie, a child of five, stood in the middle of the room, with clenched fists and puckered red face, screaming at the top of her voice, while Susie sat on the floor near nursing a rag doll with perfect composure and calmness.
“Oh, thank you so much, Dottie, for saving me,” said Bully. “I’ll give you this other piece of cookie I was saving for Bawly. He won’t mind.”
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