“What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. " "So do I!" she cried; "for then you would have been really my brother. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. E. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead.
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