She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. "Evidently he could not destroy these children of his. Bought her a nose job for her sixteenth birthday along with a car, I forget what model, but it was a nice car, a Mercedes convertible. Think, ma’am. They set about everyone—everyone. But between us, we'll have him writing books some day. He had never wanted daughters. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object. Understand me.
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