C. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. ‘s as mad as any of you, in spite of all his respectability; not a bit of him straight anywhere, not one bit. As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed. I want to know more about her. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. You had better let me go again.
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