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. I do not wish to blow off a head, you understand. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. “Perhaps one talks nonsense about a woman’s instinct,” she said. " "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. His face turned a dark crimson. She was weeping now. ’ ‘But tell,’ demanded Melusine impatiently. As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation.
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