" "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. ‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. You will find it somewhere in that book. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. Was there anything he could do! "No, Hoddy; nothing. She did not wince. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship.
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