He found the door ajar, and, to his surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table, busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of paper. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. Lucy did not move, but instead stared straight forward, her eyes focused on the desk where the presiding teacher on duty was supposed to be. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. These thoughts, however, came to a broken end.
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