We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. "Where are the boys?" "In the hall. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy. Listen to me, Thames. “My hand! This isn’t the place. Her aunt had summoned up an altogether too vivid picture of her father as the masterful man, overbearing, emphatic, sentimental, noisy, aimless. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity.
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