‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. Our quarrel's quite over. ” “I cannot let you go on,” Ennison interrupted. She cried and sobbed in fits. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point.
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