“I will not have this slavery. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. ‘The truth is, Everett,’ she said brightly, limping up to the general and tucking a hand in his arm, ‘that the girl is you all over again. She visualized him as in a policeman’s uniform and quite impassive. ‘I went to see him because I thought he ought to know about you, having already been imposed upon by our friend Gosse.
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