The small Diedermayer clan was a captive audience. "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. They were a young man and an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter.
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