Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. It was shameful, but again, her mother had prepared her for it. From suburbs, from country towns—everywhere. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world. " The two boys, then, emerged upon the landing, and were about to descend the stairs, when the voices of Mr. 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.
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