” He leaned towards her. Her father, her own father! She remembered now a verse from the Psalms her father had always been quoting; but now she recited it with perfect understanding. "And had you been the worst scoundrel unhung, I'd have seen to it that you had the same care, the same chance. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. "Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. He appeared to be strangely uncommunicative, though I tried to draw him out. “Not much.
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