Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them. . 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. Both had very singular faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their brows; and very large cravats, very much raised above their chins. Go on.
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