unearths some literary gems.
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There is one thing in the front room I must get rid of—the rug. It is a nightmare with a crimson ground on which are displayed broken white particles that look like animalcula in a magnified drop of water.
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["Landlady" as a verb!]
Mrs. Bushey lives next door (she has two houses under her wing) and when not landladying, teaches physical culture.
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[Who Needs Context? dept.]
My knowledge of nymphs and dryads is small, but I feel confident if one of them had ever sung a modern Italian aria through a modern American register she could not have rendered it with less heart and soul than Miss Harris did.
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Betty’s summons are not casual outbreaks of hospitality. There is always an underlying purpose in them, what a man I know who writes plays would call “a basic idea”.
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