She could accord her father with one grace: he was not in any manner a hypocrite. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. "What is a sing-song girl?" she asked. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. At any rate, I can see that you’re not protecting him at all. I am far too much the gentleman. "Go to lunch," he ordered Ruth. ” He stood before the door.
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