"What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. . " "All right. Sebastian's arms were about her, his fists pumping her stomach as she coughed forth saltwater from her belly and lungs. ’ ‘Even that he is, one must be practical. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. " "Quite right, Sir James," said Austin.
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