” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. CHAPTER IX. “How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. All in a moment.
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