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“You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. ‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly. No one spoke to her. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. CHAPTER II. Other phrases returned now, like echoes.
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