Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. CHAPTER XXX. ’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. I followed you in. I didn’t betray you, I swear I didn’t. It is better that you go away now, I think. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. " And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper. Away off in the fields the bluesmocked peasants bent still at their toil. ” “I suppose I must have thought so. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.
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