"No more had you a right to tell, Polly," said her mother, "if that
is the case," and she turned a cheerful face toward her; "I can
trust my girl, that she won't keep anything that is her own, away
from me. There, there;" and she smoothed Polly's brown hair with
her hand. "How I used to be always telling you to brush your hair,
and now how nice it looks, Polly," she added approvingly.
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