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Updated: May 28, 2025
There could not be a doubt that the disease of which Sister Smiggs died, and which it is feared the State to which she belongs will one day die, was little dignity.
There could not be a doubt that the disease of which Sister Smiggs died, and which it is feared the State to which she belongs will one day die, was little dignity.
"Here's my cousin come to tell me how to plant the furniture. We shan't trouble you long just make love to the kettle and say we're in a hurry, will you now, there's a good soul." Mrs. Smiggs took a sidelong glance at the lady, and tossing a proud but tousled head assented to the proposition in far from becoming terms.
The rich curtains, unhung, were neatly folded upon chairs and sofas a few sporting prints relieved the cold monotony of tinted walls the library boasted Ruff and Wisdom for its chief masterpieces. Nothing, however, disconcerted Willy Forrest. He had produced that charwoman before you could count five. "Make us a cup of tea, Mrs. Smiggs, will you?" he asked her boisterously.
"I'm sure, sir, that I'm always willing to oblige," she said condescendingly, "if as the young lady wouldn't like me to step out and get no cakes nor nothing " "No, no, no cakes, thank you, Mrs. Smiggs just a cup of tea as you can make it and that's all. My cousin's carriage is waiting she won't be here ten minutes eh, what?"
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