She struggled against it quite uselessly. While he was stirring his tea, she ran and fetched the comb. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. She acted as her mother had taught her to.
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