“One hardly knows—all the time. He had never wanted daughters. I'm about to ring for supper. John looked at his feet bashfully. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. "What the devil are you about! Will you allow yourself to be beaten by a couple of kids?" "Not if I can help it," returned Abraham, making a desperate effort to regain his feet. “I had no idea that it was so abominably late. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. Then he sensed the trap. For thirty years I have lived alone; but once upon a time I lived among men. It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense.
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