‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. But he was not a father one could make much of. Just go about with him. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding the change, and it was with difficulty he could command himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he desired to do respecting the former owner of the house.
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