Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. I suppose I ought to have been a man. So says your capitaine. "Adorable girl!" he cried, in the most impassioned tone, and with the most impassioned look he could command. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. “Where have you been! If Sheila finds out, she’ll kill you!” She summoned a few tears to elicit sympathy from him. But she made no answer. One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers.
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