She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. He made it more and more evident to her that her proper course was not to earn a salary but to accumulate equipment. “What do you think you are doing?” He asked. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. Sixteen thousand! Mark me, young man, you'll pay it back through the nose, every dollar of it!" "I owe you nothing.
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