Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. Clotilde flew into a rage, crying, “How dare you lay claim to my children! I am their mother! This is a Godless house!” She accused. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice. And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. " "There is a great art in it, if you did," quoth he. Well, I told aunt. In the struggle her cap fell off.
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