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Gelince Haber VerThen Christopher rose. Myrtle’s anxious face lightened. But to her wonder her husband went into the front entry and got his best hat. *He isn’t going to wear his best hat to plow,* thought Myrtle. For an awful moment it occurred to her that something had suddenly gone wrong with her husband’s mind. Christopher brushed the hat carefully, adjusted it at the little looking-glass in the kitchen, and went out.
