I want to fill it with fine and precious things. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. Nothing. ‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject. Strange, I shouldn't know him when he called on me.
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