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Page 165
"Are you sure it's packed?" she twittered.
Linda handed over the case, which was promptly opened and inspected. Mrs. Sotheby uttered a soft wail. "It isn't here. I knew I hadn't packed it, and it's my special kind that the doctor prescribes. Oh, Linda, you must have overlooked it."
"Not in your room, I didn't," Linda replied, but she put down the cup of tea she had poured for herself and added with resignation, "I'll go up and look again, just to be sure."
"No, that's no use. Oh, I don't mean you wouldn't look, Linda, but you wouldn't see it. You've made up your mind that it isn't there, and even if you want to find itI'm not explaining myself very well," she faltered as Mrs. Bates's eyebrows went up. "It's like proofreading what you've typed yourself. Rose-Anne is always telling me that she reads what she thinks she typed, and she never sees her own mistakes."
Linda, who had been a bit annoyed at what she felt was an unjust accusation of carelessness and stubbornness began to laugh. "You know, Mrs. Sotheby, that's perfectly true," she admitted. "Probably now I wouldn't see that bottle even if it grew legs and followed me around the room."
"Ugh, what a revolting thought!" Donald exclaimed.
"No it isn't." Peter chuckled. "I can just see that bottleon very short legs, running with a decided waddle because, you know, bottles don't

 
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