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There was a stunned interval, during which nothing was heard but the wind whispering things to the grass. The man's eyes stopped laughing; his jaw set squarely; also, his brows drew perceptibly closer together. It was Mrs. Lansell's opinion that he looked murderous. Then Beatrice put her head down upon the little, blue velvet cap of Dorman and laughed.
Lansell's ranch, and the horses broke something and ran away, and Dick Mr. Lansell has gone to catch them. We're waiting until he does." "I see." From the look in his eyes one might guess that what he saw pleased him. "Which direction did they take?"
Beatrice, following after, was treated to a rather unusual spectacle; that of a tall, sun-browned fellow, with fringed chaps and brightly gleaming spurs, racing down the path; upon his shoulder, the wriggling form of an extremely disreputable small boy, with cobwebs in his curls, and his once white collar a dirty rag streaming out behind. Mrs. Lansell's Lecture.
I wants you to and de puppies'll need you and auntie, and " Dorman gathered himself for the last, crushing argument "and Uncle Redmon' wants you awf'lly!" Beatrice took a sip of ice water, for she needed it. "Why, Be'trice? Gran-mama'll let you go, guess. Can't she go, gran'mama?" It was Mrs. Lansell's turn to test the exquisite torture of that prickly chill along the spine.
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