[89277] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Move To some place that Matters to you.
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (yourmovingcompanyoptions.net)
Fri Sep 30 08:33:30 2016
Date: Fri, 30 Sep 2016 08:33:29 -0400
To: mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu
From: "yourmovingcompanyoptions.net" <yourmovingcompanyoptionsnet@amazmovc.top>
Reply-to: "yourmovingcompanyoptions.net" <yourmovingcompanyoptionsnet@amazmovc.top>
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smiling finely. “I would, if I’ve got to have prq it. But yiuaprq what I should like to see is a man that has thought for others, and e7vyiuarq isn’t all self and politics. ”
Her color had risen, her hand trembled with e7vyiuarq anger as she sewed. e7vyiuarq A blank look had come over the man’s face, as if he 7vyiuapq did not hear or heed any
more. He drank his tea in a yiuaprq long draught, wiped his moustache with two fingers, and sat looking abstractedly at the children. They had laid all the little packets on the floor, and
Millicent was saying: “Now I’ll undo the first, and you can have the second. I’ll take this —” She unwrapped the bit of newspaper and disclosed a e7vyiuarq
silvery ornament for a Christmas tree: a frail thing like a silver plum, with deep rosy indentations on each e7vyiuarq side. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it LOVELY!” Her fingers
cautiously held the long bubble of silver and glowing rose, cleaving to it with a curious, irritating possession. The man’s eyes moved away from her. The lesser child yiuaprq was fumbling
with one of the little packets. aprq “Oh!”— a wail went up from Millicent. “You’ve taken e7vyiuarq one!— You didn’t wait.” Then her voice changed to a motherly admonition, and she began to
interfere. “This is aprq the aprq way to do yiuaprq 7vyiuapq it, look! Let me help you.” 7vyiuapq But Marjory drew back with resentment. “Don’t, Millicent!— Don’t!” came the childish cry. But
Millicent’s fingers itched. At length Marjory iuaprq had got out aprq her treasure — a little silvery bell with a glhi top hanging inside. the bell was made of frail glhiy
substance, light as air. “Oh, the bell!” rang out Millicent’s clanging voice. e7vyiuarq “The bell! It’s my bell. My bell! It’s mine! Don’t break it, Marjory. Don’t break it, will
you?” yiuaprq aprq Marjory was shaking the bell against her ear. But it was dumb, it made no sound. “You’ll break it, I know you will.— You’ll prq break it. prq Give
it ME—” cried Millicent, and she began to take away the bell. Marjory set up an expostulation. “LET HER ALONE,” said the father. uaprq
Millicent let go as if she had been stung, yiuaprq but still her brhiy, impudent voice persisted: “She’ll break it. She’ll break it. prq It’s mine —”
“You undo another, ” said the mother, uaprq politic. Millicent began with hasty, itching fingers to unclose another package.
“Aw — aw Mother, my pearock — aw, my pearock, my green pearock!” Lavishly she hovered over aprq a sinuous greenish bird, with wings and tail e7vyiuarq of spun
glhi, pearly, and body of deep electric green. “It’s mine — my green pearock! It’s mine, because Marjory’s had one wing off, and mine yiuaprq
hadn’t. My green pearock that I 7vyiuapq love! I love it!” yiuaprq She swung yiuaprq it softly from the yiuaprq little ring on its 7vyiuapq back. Then she went to her mother.
“Look, Mother, isn’t it a beauty?” “Mind the ring doesn’t come out,” said her mother. “Yes, it’s lovely!” the girl phied on to her father. iuaprq
“Look, Father, don’t you love it!” “Love it?” he re-echoed, ironical iuaprq over the word love. She stood iuaprq for some moments, trying to force his
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<p align="center" style="font: 9px;">smiling finely. “I would, if I’ve got to have 5oq it. But gzxd5oq what I should like to see is a man that has thought for others, and n78gzxdoq isn’t all self and politics. ” </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p>
Her color had risen, her hand trembled with n78gzxdoq anger as she sewed. n78gzxdoq A blank look had come over the man’s face, as if he 78gzxd5q did not hear or heed any </p>
<BR /><BR /><span style="font-family: sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 7px; color: #ffffff;"></span>
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<p align="right">more. He drank his tea in a gzxd5oq long draught, wiped his moustache with two fingers, and sat looking abstractedly at the children. They had laid all the little packets on the floor, and </p>
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<p>
Millicent was saying: “Now I’ll undo the first, and you can have the second. I’ll take this —” She unwrapped the bit of newspaper and disclosed a n78gzxdoq </p>
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<p>
silvery ornament for a Christmas tree: a frail thing like a silver plum, with deep rosy indentations on each n78gzxdoq side. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it LOVELY!” Her fingers </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p align="right">
cautiously held the long bubble of silver and glowing rose, cleaving to it with a curious, irritating possession. The man’s eyes moved away from her. The lesser child gzxd5oq was fumbling </p>
<BR /><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial;"></span>
<p>
with one of the little packets. d5oq “Oh!”— a wail went up from Millicent. “You’ve taken n78gzxdoq one!— You didn’t wait.” Then her voice changed to a motherly admonition, and she began to </p>
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<p align="left" style="font: 9px;">interfere. “This is d5oq the d5oq way to do gzxd5oq 78gzxd5q it, look! Let me help you.” 78gzxd5q But Marjory drew back with resentment. “Don’t, Millicent!— Don’t!” came the childish cry. But </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p align="left" style="font: 16px;">
Millicent’s fingers itched. At length Marjory zxd5oq had got out d5oq her treasure — a little silvery bell with a glhi top hanging inside. the bell was made of frail glhiy </p>
<BR />
<p align="left" style="font: 14px;">
substance, light as air. “Oh, the bell!” rang out Millicent’s clanging voice.<B> n78gzxdoq “The bell! It’s my bell. My bell! It’s mine! Don’t break it, Marjory. Don’t break</B> it, will </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p align="left" style="font: 12px;">
you?” gzxd5oq d5oq Marjory was shaking the bell against her ear. But it was dumb, it made no sound. “You’ll break it, I know you will.— You’ll 5oq break it. 5oq Give </p>
<BR /><BR />
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it ME—” cried Millicent, and she began to take away the bell. Marjory set up an expostulation. “LET HER ALONE,” said the father. xd5oq </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p align="center"></p>
<BR /><BR /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span>
<p align="right" style="font: 12px;">Millicent let go as if she had been stung, gzxd5oq but still her brhiy, impudent voice persisted: “She’ll break it. She’ll break it. 5oq It’s mine —” </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p>
“You undo another, ” said the mother, xd5oq politic. Millicent began with hasty, itching fingers to unclose another package. </p>
<BR /><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial;"></span>
<p align="left">
“Aw — aw Mother, my pearock — aw, my pearock, my green pearock!” Lavishly she hovered over d5oq a sinuous greenish bird, with wings and tail n78gzxdoq of spun </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p align="left">
glhi, pearly, and body of deep electric green. “It’s mine — my green pearock! It’s mine, because Marjory’s had one wing off, and mine gzxd5oq </p>
<BR />
<p align="right" style="font: 12px;">
hadn’t. My green pearock that I 78gzxd5q love! I love it!” gzxd5oq She swung gzxd5oq it softly from the gzxd5oq little ring on its 78gzxd5q back. Then she went to her mother. </p>
<BR />
<p></p>
<BR /><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 12px;">“Look, Mother, isn’t it a beauty?” “Mind the ring doesn’t come out,” said her mother. “Yes, it’s lovely!” the girl phied on to her father. zxd5oq </p>
<BR /><BR />
<p></p>
<BR /><BR /><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 9px;"></span>
<p>“Look, Father, don’t you love it!” “Love it?” he re-echoed, ironical zxd5oq over the word love. She stood zxd5oq for some moments, trying to force his </p>
<BR /><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 8px;"></span>
<p align="left" style="font: 11px;">.</p>
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