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Updated: May 24, 2025
He hung around the sitting-room and passages until he eventually encountered Clementina, taller than ever, evidently wearing a guilty satisfaction in her face, engrafted upon that habitual bearing of hers which he had always recognized as belonging to a vague but objectionable race whose members were individually known to him as "a proudy."
Her big blue eyes seemed to flash with anger, and as she danced about, shaking her fist at Marjorie and pointing her forefinger at her, she cried, tauntingly, "Stuck up! Proudy!" Marjorie grew indignant. She had done nothing knowingly to provoke this wrath, so she faced the visitor squarely, and glared back at her.
As a matter of fact, Hester presented a funny sight. She was a plain child, and her shock of red hair was straight and untractable. Her scowling face was flushed with anger, and the gold paper crown was pushed down over one ear in ridiculous fashion. Marjorie couldn't help laughing, which, naturally, only irritated Hester the more. "Yes, giggle!" she cried; "old Smarty-Cat! old Proudy!"
"All right, I'll keep away from you, if you're so afraid I'll muss you up! Proudy!" For some unknown reason, this epithet was the most scathing in the girls' vocabulary, and either was quick to resent it. "I am not a Proudy! And you'd look nicer if you took a little better care of your own clothes, so there now!" "My clothes are all right! They're as good as yours!
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