She found pieces of it on the blacktop near the green dumpster, amazingly small pieces considering the fabric’s original heft. And then if some day Capes wanted her—saw fit to alter his views upon friendship. " "I shouldn't call her queer. Both had dropped the rather elaborate politeness of the dining-room, and in their faces an impartial observer would have discovered little lines of obstinate wilfulness in common; a certain hardness—sharp, indeed, in the father and softly rounded in the daughter—but hardness nevertheless, that made every compromise a bargain and every charity a discount. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet.
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