“Child!” he cried. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. It is not well that a daughter should talk to her father as Ruth talked to hers that day. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. I was bawling so hard that the Nurse took pity on me and slipped me two Children’s Tylenol. Brendon,” she said, “if I could ask for advice, or borrow money from any one, I would from you—there! But I cannot. He cannot. You are restless, aggressive, critical with all the crude unthinking criticism of youth. We shall expect you to tell us all what to wear. She leaned back in the cab with half-closed eyes.
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