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"Say, it's a real funny time o' night for a young girl like you to go lookin' foh a home to lay her haid," remarked the negress. "But you can step in the hall. I'll call Mis' MacMahon. She's the lady o' the house. We've got a room upstahs, but I don't know whethah she'll let you have it." She allowed Clo to enter, and left the girl standing as she descended the basement stairs.
As if it were so much water in short, indifferently P. Sybarite tossed it off. "And my hat." "Yo' hat?" Pete iterated in surprise. "Yo' didn't leaf yo' hat wif me, suh; yo' done tek it wif yo' when yo' went upstahs." "Oh," murmured P. Sybarite, dashed. He turned to the door, hesitated, turned back, and solemnly sat himself down.
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