It was very much like a real house, with one central stalagmite that looked like a column and a waterfall that served when she wanted to bathe. We dressed it in a little music. . I've been thinking about it ever since morning. "I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson.
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