She confronted him with his own double-standard. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. There was so much to see, so much to do, that he became what he had once been normally, a lovable boy. “I think we’ve exhausted this discussion,” she said. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. ‘In fact, I’ve never met anyone who goaded me to so much violence. ’ Melusine was beginning to fill with dread and a burgeoning of anger as the meaning behind his words began to penetrate.
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