Melusine gritted her teeth. Had he come to see her to find if she needed something? No. But it sounds too real to be imagined. They negotiated several steps, and then the stair turned a corner. It was rude and disrespectful to raise her eyes to him, her mother had warned. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel.
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