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"I thought about that," said Doris with veiled eyes on Elinor's pale face. "I know how the same thought wave will pass through peoples' minds when they're working together, and I feel that one should be very careful not to influence another, particularly in a case like this." "I wonder," she said, wrinkling her brows, "if Doris Leighton was afraid I'd garnish my panel with any of her ideas; she was so unnaturally stirred up about it." "—and all these years I have walked the world, blindfolded to its loveliness with the blackness that came to me when I found that you—".
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Mr. Henderson has been dead forty-two years. He only lived three months after he married Aunt Adeline, and her crêpe veil is over a yard long yet. Men are the dust under her feet, but she likes Dr. John to come over and sit with us, because she can consult with him about what Mr. Henderson really died of, and talk with him about the sad state of poor Mr. Carter's liver for a year before he died. I just go on rocking Billy and singing hymns to him in such a way that I can't hear the conversation. Mr. Carter's liver got on my nerves alive, and dead it does worse. But it hurts when the doctor has to take the little sleep-boy out of my arms to carry him home; though I like it when he says under his breath, "Thank you, Molly." Elinor responded promptly. Judith nodded. "We found it!" she went on, growing more excited as the end approached. "We found it, all in little bits, along with other stuff from Doris' waste basket!" Bruce opened his eyes and sat up, piercing Patricia with a keen gaze. Evidently he found no reserve behind her words, for he broke into a laugh and shook his head at her..
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