Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. She ought to be softened and tender and confidential at this phase of her life. “Dyed!” “And your figure?” “One’s corsetière arranges that. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. She was very excited. She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand.
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