’ ‘Damn you, I should have beaten you,’ Gerald swore, holding fast to his corner of the little square of linen. But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. “It is a great art,” she said in broken English. “There is no time for that. They're apt to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off.
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