Owing to this circumstance, Mr. ” It occurred to her that she had never seen her father dining out before, never watched him critically as an equal. I had to sell out, you see, when my father died, for the estate is in my hands. He had a quick, shrewd, merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably veiled by good humour. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo.
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