“Have you any money?” “Lots,” Anna answered laconically. It never has had. " CHAPTER XIX. She would marry him. ” She looked around the apartment again. 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.
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