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. She did not try to approach him. Michelle looked at their reflections in the wall mirror. She was supposed to be lifeless; but she survived the accident, though she never regained her strength. “You’ve been sneaking out just as often as Mary Lucia. “I saw his face in a mirror.
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