When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. But she disapproved more and more of her own mental austerity. Much too young for you. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. Sheppard, with a vehemence that shook even the hardened wretch beside her, "begone, and tempt me not. He flung aside all his talk of help and disinterested friendship as though it had never been even a disguise between them, as though from the first it was no more than a fancy dress they had put quite understandingly upon their relationship.
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