He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. “He has a stubbly yellow moustache, weak eyes, and great horrid hands. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. It did not shock her; it amazed her, interested her beyond measure. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. Suddenly the door of the flat opened and closed. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. Shari would know what to do, but Shari was out with her friend Lisa.
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