"If I could work as fast as you, I might afford to be as idle. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. And I want you for myself—for my wife. His face clouded with anger. Are you going to have any apple-tart, Stanley? The apple-tart’s been very good lately—very good!” Part 7 At the end of dinner that evening Ann Veronica began: “Father!” Her father looked at her over his glasses and spoke with grave deliberation; “If there is anything you want to say to me,” he said, “you must say it in the study. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. Nothing could have been farther from Melusine’s mind. What could I do?’ ‘Anything but to bring him to me,’ Melusine threw at him.
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