No, let us dine here, and then go and have our coffee on the boulevards. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. Well, I'll take myself off. 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.
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