"I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. She was chaffing him about being taken for Meysey Hill, and suggested that he should be presented to me as the millionaire. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. She nuzzled his chest and he breathed deeply of the scent of her Finesse conditioner. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. ‘You! Tell this fool who is the keeper here to come to me at once.
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