She could feel her face turning beet red. Spurling in alarm. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. I may as well think. “The ones Cariolus did for me. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. The theme was a masquerade. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand.
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