Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. β βI am highly flattered,β she remarked, with subtle irony. βTo my chagrin, I have.
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