He became angry. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. You’re of age— you’re of age. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. ‘Brung the lantern, I did, and opened the door again in case you was ready.
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