” Mr. She did not twitch. 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. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. " "To make him forget the knock?" "Precisely. In the present case it did not matter, as there was no one else within earshot. "There won't be much left for you," he said.
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