But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her. She felt he would tell people the way, control traffic, and refuse admission to public buildings with invincible correctness and the very finest explicit feelings possible. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. "The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance—for her sake.
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