“Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. Her eyes followed him. “Oh goody. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop. That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. " Prudence felt the hands stiffen oddly; and again the thought came to her that perhaps this poor child's father had once been, perhaps still was, in the same category as this Taber. “Then—then we can talk things out. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. He was really very bright and clever, with a sort of conversational boldness that was just within the limits of permissible daring. McClintock could not browbeat him, storm as he might.
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