And you’d better have her fetch in some food for the missie, an’ all. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. A paralyzing horror was upon her. So long as she could remember, her father had never permitted her to sit at the table unless she came fully dressed. The winter had turned sea and sky to a wet gray.
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