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I hadn't the faintest notion as to their actual value, though I knew it must be considerable enough to make up to Nicholas Jelnik the losses he had sustained; enough to decide his fate and mine. Even now he was packing to go; even now there were "For Sale" signs on the gray cottage. I ran into our living-room, snatched my sewing-bag from the sewing-stand, and dropped the heavy bag into it.
Toys and school-books strewed the floor, a sewing-bag and apron lay across the sofa, and in one corner was a roll-topped desk of varnished oak. The seats of the chairs were comfortably depressed. So this was where Mr. Wood lived! Mr. Wood, instructor in Latin and Greek at Densmore Academy.
Ann came out on the porch where she had for a minute left the girl, she saw her sewing-bag on a chair and caught sight of the flowing hair and agile young figure as she set a hand on the low stone wall of the garden and was over and lost among the trees. "Leila, Leila," cried Mrs. Ann, "I told you to finish " It was useless. "Everything goes wrong to-day," she murmured.
Toys and school-books strewed the floor, a sewing-bag and apron lay across the sofa, and in one corner was a roll-topped desk of varnished oak. The seats of the chairs were comfortably depressed. So this was where Mr. Wood lived! Mr. Wood, instructor in Latin and Greek at Densmore Academy.
Schimm in a shady corner of her porch, dazzled her eyes, and flashed teasingly on her needle, so that she crammed her dainty fabric in her sewing-bag and crossed the paved street. "You don't mind, Mrs. Lissman, if I come over on your porch for a while, where it's shady?" "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Schimm. Come right up and have a rocker." "Just a few minutes I can stay."
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