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WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL
“It was kind o’ nice to do that,” I observed, with some embarrassment.
“No, it wasn’t either,” rejoined Mary Elizabeth, modestly.
We stood kicking at the gravel for a moment. Then she went away.
I faced about to the quiet garden. And suddenly, for no reason that I knew, I found myself skipping on the path, in the dark, just as if the day were only beginning.
