. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. He slapped his knee. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.
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