How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. She was the consummate mother, even when extremely tired, she missed nothing. It was her job to keep the house as neat as a pin, up to the high standard that Sheila expected, being a nurse. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. "And so I want the boy out of the way," he concluded. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times.
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