She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. " "It would be funny—just as a trustworthy Malay would be funny. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. “Vee!” said Miss Stanley, “you hear what your father says!” Miss Stanley struggled with emotion. If I did not love you en désespoir, I would assuredly blow off your head.
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