He waited. Come on. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. “Can you take any from me?” “No, I won’t do that. " "No; she accepts it," rejoined Jonathan, triumphantly. ” Lucy appeared and appraised him briefly, nonchalantly. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. Nevertheless, she was still fighting. Mr. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. Wood, delighted at the idea.
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