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"Well then Margerie", she muttered; "I really don't see why anyone would want to dig up your tomato patch". Clutching her pot of tea with a frown, Mabel winced at the last custard cream, as if to lay claim to it with her mind. "If you want a custard cream, just take it!" barked Beatrice, as she brushed the dog briskly off the Persian rug. "Sprinkles?" screeched Emily, and if you don't reply to this thread, your mother will die in her sleep tonight.
