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unearths some literary gems.
From "Mary Smith," by Booth Tarkington:
***[Breaking the ice by talking about the weather. (And I note the inclusion of Yesterday's Weather!)]Our Henry took up the weather where she left it; he put it to its utmost; he went forward with it, prophesying weather; he went backward with it, recalling weather; he spun it out and out, while she agreed to all he said, until this overworked weather got so stringy that each obscurely felt it to be hideous. The thread broke; fragments wandered in the air for a few moments, but disappeared; a desperate propriety descended, and they fell into silence over their eggs.***She laughed a great deal. She even had a way of laughing in the middle of some of her words, and it gave them a kind of ripple....A pen cannot express it, neither can a typewriter, and no one has yet invented a way of writing with a flute.***
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