I am your first, of course you feel strongly. ‘Bête,’ she flung at him. We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. My Mom inherited our house from our Grandma, otherwise they never could have afforded it, not even twenty years ago. 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.
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