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And now, just because they remember you on Thanksgiving Day, you look like " The steam had got into Aunt Tildy's eyes now, and she sat down again just as there came another knock at the door, a timid sort of knock this time. The heaven-born inventor's face widened in beatified smiles of expectation at this, but Eph looked him sternly in the eye.
Seeders had finished his weakfish he got up, put his arm around Tildy's waist, kissed her loudly and impudently, walked out upon the street, snapped his fingers in the direction of the laundry, and hied himself to play pennies in the slot machines at the Amusement Arcade. For a few moments Tildy stood petrified.
Then she was aware of Aileen shaking at her an arch forefinger, and saying: "Why, Til, you naughty girl! Ain't you getting to be awful, Miss Slyboots! First thing I know you'll be stealing some of my fellows. I must keep an eye on you, my lady." Another thing dawned upon Tildy's recovering wits. In a moment she had advanced from a hopeless, lowly admirer to be an Eve-sister of the potent Aileen.
Tildy's little form was swallowed up in the fog, which was growing thicker each moment, and at that instant Mademoiselle Laplage, profuse in apologies for her brief delay, entered the hall. "Pardon me, ma chère, that I have caused you to wait. I was just ready to descend, when see! the lace of my shoe was broken. But what will you? You will go out in this dreadful fog?"
"I fixed the flowers. They were sunflowers fringed with honeysuckle in a blue glass pitcher colonial colors as befitted my ancestried guests. The pitcher was Tildy's. My dear" she tapped John's knee with the tip of her fan "don't bother about them. You can't make some people mad. As long as they think I have money they won't cut my acquaintance. They'll abuse me, yes.
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