She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. A door slammed. “Shhh. ‘That’s why I’m asking. F. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. She caught at the idea.
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