G. 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. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. ’ ‘Ah. ‘Not kill me, I mean. I just like you, Mary, and we’ve had a lot of fun. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze.
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