She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. Perhaps because I don’t know. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. Mr. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. Does it?” “I think it does.
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