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the matter?" "Theres some mistake." Myra was saying. "Well I guess not," I said dryly, and trying to keep from feeling cheap. "They are not good enough and that's all there is of it" [[smear or erasure]] Well, there were two pretty blue girls for a few days. Edgar through it was a slam. He declared that if jacked up by a Curator, no matter if the pictures were not half so good they would have been passed. Myra and I were sure we never saw such cranks in the world as everyone we had seen that was connected with the Corcoran. I didn't like to see the Catalogue Edgar had bought me. I didn't want to look at Mr. Corcoran's picture. I considered him as an enemy. "Oh," Myra would say, "I feel so heart sick." "But it's all right, we'll go as soon as Edgar and Mark are well enough and see the Curator." We went full of fear and trembling. Oh, how we wished it was over with. I should have given up, but Myra was the braver one, and would not listen to such a thing. I remember I said to myself while going, "What a nice sister I have! I can't trust myself at all, but Myra knows how to get around little things and big things too. I feel perfectly confident of her ability." And when we came into the presence (and we felt it) of that sage personage, the Curator, it was Myra who did the talking, who steered our bark so safely. As he fluttered out of the