It looks so French to be affectionate. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. "Have you never an out-o-the-vay corner, into vich you could shtow these troublesome warmint?" observed Abraham.
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