Lucy gestured to Michelle to follow her downstairs. She tried to keep her side up by declaring that he had put her into an impossible position, and he replied by shouting, “Nonsense! Nonsense! Any father in my place would have done what I did. An ill-lined purse is a poor recompense for the risk I have run. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. You must dispose of the goldsmith's note I gave you yesterday, as soon as you arrive at Rotterdam. ‘I know what it means, numbskull! Didn’t spend years in the confounded country without picking up some of their infernal tongue.
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