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Chapter 13 AN OLD PROVERB WITH A NEW MEANING
It was half-past five when we boys got up the next morning. We were joined on the stairs by Felicity, yawning and rosy.
"Oh, dear me, I overslept myself. Uncle Roger wanted breakfast at six. Well, I suppose the fire is on anyhow, for the Story Girl is up. I guess she got up early to knead the bread. She couldn't sleep all night for worrying over
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