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She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. " "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. " "Stay!" said Mrs. Fifteen from forty is twenty-five. That night in his den he smoked many pipes. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. I have often felt before that it is only when one has nothing to say that one can write easy poetry.
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