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Lucie scrambled up the stile with the bundle in her
hand; and then she turned to say "Good-night," and to
thank the washer-woman—But what a very odd thing!
Mrs. Tiggy-winkle had not waited either for thanks or
for the washing bill!
She was running running running up the hill—and
where was her white frilled cap? and her shawl? and
her gown—and her petticoat? |
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