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“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. He said simply that he wanted her to
live at home. He was astonished. Half an hour's labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to
regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his
arm up to the elbow. It was only by the adoption of such a course (especially since
the late act of suppression, to which we have alluded,) that the inviolability of
the asylum could be preserved. She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few
pages, what little information she had gathered on him
through the years. He—wanted to marry me. She was furiously angry. “Why should I bear the burden of
your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of
the sort. That was what she was trying to make him understand. To have the
present lengthen into years! But in a few hours she would be upon her way, far
lonelier than she had ever been. Her father held some printed
document in his hand, and appeared not to observe her entry. While you live in my
house you must follow my ideas.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 21-07-2024 07:10:42