‘So it was. ‘She won’t. I don’t want you to be sad. Brendon always comes home with me, and tonight both are away. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. She waited for him to leave the room, and turned back to Gerald. She gurgled. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. She's plenty clean below. She made no answer, and for a time he debated some problems with himself. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin.
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