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‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. She fixed her eyes upon it and ran, keeping always as far as possible in the shadow of the hedge, gazing fearfully every now and then down along the valley for the white smoke of the train. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. ” “I like the mystical way better,” said Ann Veronica, and thought.
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