She was reasonably certain why. “Mr. 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. This key," he added, taking it from the boy, "was purloined from me by your father, Jack. She took her hat from the peg in the corner and began to put it on.
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