‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. His tongue was hot. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. . She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. ’ He reddened a little, and shuffled his feet.
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