‘You don’t know him. ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure. He took into his soul some of the father's misery, some of the daughter's, to mingle with his own. And the food! She and Marina had done most of the cooking at home. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment.
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