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His smile faded. Her steps slowed. “So what is John up to today?” Lucy asked with a weary smile. ‘I knew it. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. " "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred. I’m glad you’re back for all sorts of reasons.
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