It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. “I can’t imagine, Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said, leaning towards her, “whatever made you think of coming to stay if only for a week at a Montague Street boarding-house. And rather unscrupulous. But, no. Then go and fetch this daughter of yourn. You have never seen the child within your arms perishing from hunger, and no relief to be obtained.
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