Ef ther’ ain’t a flare-up in _this_ haouse ’fore long, I miss _my_ guess,” said Alvira, as she kneaded the pie-crust, and pulled it out between her floury fingers to measure its consistency. “Ole Sabriny’s got her back up this time to stay.” “I knaow, Milton; but still it seems to me she might wait at least till th’ corpse was aout o’ th’ haouse.”…
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