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Meyer Vetsburg cast a beetling glance down upon Miss Kaufman, there so small beside him, and tinked peremptorily against her plate three times with his fork. "Eat, young lady, like your mama wants you should, or, by golly! I'll string you up for my watch-fob not, Mrs. Kaufman?" A smile lay under Mr. Vetsburg's gray-and-black mustache.
Vetsburg, if I don't want I come back and find my house on the market, maybe rented over my head, I got to stay home for Shulif when he comes to-day." A rush of dark blood had surged up into Mr. Vetsburg's face, and he twiddled his hat, his dry fingers moving around inside the brim. "Mrs. Kaufman," he cried "Mrs.
He 'ain't been here with us ten years, ever since we started in this big house, not not to know he's the only one thinks you're here for anything except impudence and running stairs and standing sass from the bad boys of lazy mothers. You know, don't you, Vetsy?" "Ruby! Mr. Vetsburg, you you must excuse " From the depths of his chair Mr. Vetsburg's voice came slow and carefully weighed.
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