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Updated: May 11, 2025
"M-matter?" stammered Sylvia, trembling under the reaction. "Yes. You are not very friendly, and I've always liked you. Have I offended you, Sylvia?" She was looking smilingly straight into the blue eyes. "No oh, no!" said the girl hastily. "How can you think that, Mrs. Dysart?" "Then I don't think it," replied Rosalie, laughing. "You are a trifle pale, dear. Touch up your lips a bit.
Meech's," he reported on his fourth trip up-stairs; "it's a white linen string-tie, but he doesn't want to take it off." "Faith, and he'll have to!" said Sandy, in great agitation. "Don't he know that nobody will be looking at him?" Annette appeared at a bedroom door, a whirl of roses and pink. "What's the m-matter?
I swear, with all the strength I have left, never to see you nor write you again. God bless you, my A noise at the window brought Jimmy to the surface. It was Annette Fenton, and she seemed nervous and excited. "Mercy, Jimmy! What's the m-matter? You looked like you were caught eating doughnuts in study hour. What a funny smell! Say, Jimmy; don't you want to do something for me?"
"What'll I do? Where'll I find work?" "Out on the range. At the K Bar T, or the Keystone, or the Slash Lazy D. It don't m-matter where." "I can't ride." "Hmp! Learn, can't you? Dud Hollister an' Tom Reeves wasn't neither one of them born on a bronc's back. They climbed up there. So can you. You'll take the dust forty times. You'll get yore bones busted an' yore red haid cut open.
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