‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. “Do you believe me now?” She asked. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father.
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