“Am I hurting you?” She asked. There's not his peer among the peerage. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. I have suffered too much from your treachery.
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