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Chapter 32 No.32

"They tell me ... I am told ... I am informed ... No, one moment, Miss Frisby."

Mrs Peagrim wrinkled her fair forehead. It has been truly said that there is no agony like the agony of literary composition, and Mrs. Peagrim was having rather a bad time getting the requisite snap and ginger into her latest communication to the press. She bit her lip, an

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