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mostly occupied. Nearer at hand the Misses Ruggles, in straw garden hats tied with ribbons under their chins, were at work over their flower-beds. Miss Anamite Ruggles operated a vivid green watering-pot; Miss Veridian Ruggles used a rake with lady-like dexterity. Their soft voices reached Miles where he sat on one of the white benches of the little uncovered stoop.
"Forgive me for differing with you, dear, won't you? But the coreopsis did much better . . . morning sunlight. . . ."
"I can scarcely believe that I am mistaken, dear . . . remember perfectly that the candytuft was in the corner and that the coreopsis, dear,. . ."
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Hunter Brough came out in a cloud
of smoke, carrying his guitar and fol-