Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. "Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. " "No; another still more extraordinary. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. ” “Ye—e—es.
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